


Time's Spirit

by gamer_garbage



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Azure Moon Spoilers, Everyone dies BUT NOT REALLY, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Minor Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Minor Bernadetta von Varley/Ferdinand von Aegir, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Minor Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Minor Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Minor Raphael Kirsten/Ignatz Victor, Minor Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Verdant Wind Spoilers, Verdant Wind/Azure Moon Join Routes, claude is the ultimate shipper, like REALLY slow i'm really sorry about that, no beta we die like Glenn, slowburn, sothis is here for comedy purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 55
Words: 143,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamer_garbage/pseuds/gamer_garbage
Summary: Three years after the war, Claude finally begins to see the fruits of his labor. Now as King of Almyra, he works closely with Fodlan's new monarch, Byleth, to create unity between the two nations. Just as everything was going according to plan, he wakes up in his old bed at the monastery. Not too strange, he thinks, until he bumps into a very young, and surprisingly kind, Sylvain in the halls.Claude's been sent to the past, and he makes it his mission to save his friends from the oncoming threat of war. But with less than a year to stop Edelgard and the rest of the Black Eagles, can he really change their fate?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 371
Kudos: 619





	1. Fodlan's Future

**Author's Note:**

> I was just sitting in my living room one day, thinking "I want to make a Dimiclaude fic now that I've beaten Azure Moon and Verdant Wind", and this idea popped into my brain.
> 
> Also, major character deaths are only mentioned as they've already happened.

Once upon a time, there was a country divided into three territories: The Adrestian Empire, The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance. All ruled under different families with different ranks of power. All held under the boot of the Church of Seiros. The noble children from these three lands would attend its academy at Garreg Mach Monastery, forming friendships and bonds, until, one day, a war was declared. Friends soon found themselves at the business end of each other's weapons, staining lances and swords and axes with blood.

Those were dark days and bitter memories. Both of which Claude didn't want to remember. Not with his future so close, enough that he could just reach out and touch it. The man had seen too much tragedy. He couldn't—shouldn't—focus on the past. Now, there was only the future he could create.

That's what Claude believed all those years ago back at Garreg Mach, after Edelgard declared war against the Church, and after so many of his allies were slaughtered in unnecessary battles. And he believed it now, as he stood side-by-side with his ex-professor, both men smiling as they took the white-feathered quill sitting on the desk and signed their names onto the paper laid out for them. The newly crowned king couldn't help the grin that etched onto his face when he lifted the utensil from the sheet.

"And that's that," he said, releasing a sigh. "Finally, after so long, Almyra and Fodlan will work together as one."

Byleth smiled as well. "It's only been a year, yet it feels like much longer."

"Yeah. Probably because of all the people we had to get to agree to it."

"We should thank the Goddess Hilda didn't need much convincing, nor did anyone else from the Alliance. The former Imperial and Kingdom nobles however..." Byleth sighed. "Though it's understandable. There's been much resistance on their part after the war. Many are still loyal to their crowns, despite Ashe and Ferdinand's efforts."

"The Kingdom I can see," Claude replied, closing his eyes and leaning back in his seat, "but the Empire? Edelgard wasn't a bad leader, but she dragged them all to war. I don't understand how people could still be loyal to her..."

The king didn't let his partner's grimace go unnoticed. He saw a glint in Byleth's eye and turned to him, his eyes opening again and seat now placed firmly on the ground. "By?" he asked.

"Edelgard did what she believed was best for her people the same way Dimitri did. It's clear why whatever remains of the Empire would still respect her: her ideals were convincing, and people will do anything if it meant freedom."

"You're defending her..."

"I'm speaking the truth," he retorted. Byleth would not look Claude in the eye, too afraid of the burning anger he still felt towards the late emperor behind those emerald irises, but he spoke his piece. For he felt it was needed. "I know how much you miss him, we all do, but if you blind yourself to his faults and focus only on Edelgard's-"

"Alright, alright. I get it." Claude gave a teasing smile. A quick tactic he'd used before, Byleth noticed. "Always the wise one, eh, Teach? Or should I say..." Claude stood up from the chair and approached Byleth, an arm snaking around his waist to pull the archbishop closer with a smirk. "My husband?"

Byleth rolled his eyes at the king. He grabbed Claude's collar and pulled him forward, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. When they pulled away, the god-like man only answered, "Just don't make it a habit."

"You got it." Claude gave him a wink. "Now, the ceremony won't be for another month. Lorenz insisted it'd be here at the monastery. I agree, since it'll be like a little class reunion. But..."

"Then we'd have to travel to Almyra to finalize our union there as well, correct?"

"Bingo. From there, we can consummate it wherever you like. In the royal chambers, the gardens, as long as I get to hear you scream my name." Another wink.

That sent blood directly to Byleth's pale cheeks, and the archbishop shoved his husband away, causing the other to laugh. He went on some rant about decency or something, but Claude's ears fell deaf to his words. All he could focus on was Byleth.

The man who stood by his side through the war. The man who helped him as he grieved. The man who, after everything, believed in him and his dreams, and helped him to make them come true. Claude loved Byleth, and knew he'd do so for the rest of his life. He wanted nothing more than to stay by his side, and vice versa, but still...

In his dreams, in the darkness of the night, all he could think of was shaggy, golden hair and the piercing gaze of a single, blue eye. Black armor with a blue, furred cloak stained with red. The sharp end of a lance sticking clean through that armor as the man let out a final gasp of breath.

And in those moments, all Claude can hear are the screams of a broken heart.

* * *

The celebration was nothing short of memorable. Garreg Mach Monastery had never felt so alive, not since eight years ago, and everyone across Fodlan worked together to make it the biggest and greatest party of the century. There was champagne and ballroom dancing, and, to top it all off, a grand feast to commemorate Claude and Byleth's marriage. Almyra however, in Claude's opinion, was that and much more.

Instead of the sparkling gold of champagne, there was the purple fizz of wine and yellow tint of beer chugged by anyone who could get their hands on a glass. Where there was the slowness of the ballroom, there was the thrill of traditional dances that even the king was allowed to partake in, and while Fodlan's feast was spectacular, Almyra's never seemed to end. The kingdom partied for a week in honor of the marriage between their new king and his lover, with little breaks in between to let the newlyweds have some alone time in their chambers, and by the time the pair returned to the monastery they were exhausted.

Claude and Byleth both agreed to take the next month off to relax. They would roam the monastery grounds and, occasionally, visit parts of Fodlan to check on their companions. Their first stop was Imperial territory, where they spent time with Ferdinand and Dorothea who were expecting their first child very soon. They gave their blessings, and headed north, towards the Alliance.

There, they spoke to Hilda, Lorenz, and Marianne. Hilda was doing well with her new position as a Leicester Representative. Lorenz and Marianne were also expecting a child, their second born, and the royal couple gave blessings to them as well.

Their last stop was in old Kingdom territory: Fhirdiad. No longer the capital of Faerghus, it served as the home base of Kingdom Representatives Ashe and Ingrid. Many believed them to be wed, but neither showed interest in marriage anytime soon. While the rest of the world was blind to it, Claude and Byleth knew the truth.

When the pair arrived, their greeted their friends with smiles and cheers. The four of them sat down to feast, exchanging jokes and stories since they last saw each other at the ceremony.

"How are things going so far?" Ashe asked, his eyes brimmed with curiosity.

"I was just about to ask the same thing. It can't be easy, not with you two having to look after two countries now," Ingrid added.

"It's coming along," Byleth answered. "Though I'm unfamiliar with Almyran customs, Claude has been teaching me its history and culture. It's a slow but steady progress."

"Couldn't agree more," Claude chuckled.

Ashe smiled, as did Ingrid. "I see. And have you two..."

No answer had to be given. Byleth's crimson face was the only response they needed, and the room was filled with laughter once again.

"What about you two?" Claude asked. "Heard things are getting pretty rough up here with winter approaching so fast."

Ingrid nodded. "Yes. We're afraid it's coming much more quickly than anticipated. Rumors have been spreading..."

Byleth and Claude's eyes went wide. The two exchanged a glance, then turned to their companions. "What kind of rumors?" the archbishop asked.

They didn't miss Ashe chewing at his lip. "Well, si-since His Highness's passing, people have been...been blaming any phenomenon on, well, his...his spirit."

A dark look spread across Claude's face. "So, what? They're saying he's pissed about something, and is causing the storms?"

Ingrid gave a nod. "Those have been the rumors. Foolish things, but the people believe them. There's been so many changes since the war ended... It's just their response to all these new things."

Silence loomed over the room, replacing the joy that once stood mere moments ago. It was broken when Claude stood, his chair scrapping against the tiled floor of the palace, and his footsteps made a _tap tap tap_ sound as he walked away.

"Claude," Byleth called after him, "where are you going?"

The Almyran king did not pause. "To visit his Kingliness. Talk some sense into him," he said, his voice teasing. But Byleth understood the underlying tone.

And so he stood as well and followed his husband outside the palace walls, through the gardens, and, finally, into the graveyard.

It didn't take long, and soon enough Byleth saw his husband crouching over a cracked tombstone. His legs shook as he approached, eyes darting and gluing themselves to Claude. He couldn't bear to read the name embedded into the slate tablet.

_Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd_

_20th Ethereal Moon, Imperial Year 1162_

_30th Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1186_

_"Beloved friend and king."_

The two stared over the grave, the air around them somber, when, finally, Claude spoke.

"He didn't deserve this," he muttered.

Byleth hesitated. "No one in the war-"

" _He_ didn't deserve this." Claude's voice was like venom, something Byleth only heard in the early days after Dimitri's passing. The other Golden Deer didn't see it, he wouldn't let them, but the Alliance leader allowed Byleth to see him then. Filled with hatred and sorrow, mourning early in the morning and late into the evening. "I know. I can't count how many lives were lost, how many husbands and wives and parents and children died, but he..."

He didn't finish. He didn't need to. Byleth knelt beside him, hand on Claude's shoulder, and he glanced at the grave. Sitting at the foot of the tombstone was a bouquet of flowers: marigolds, chrysanthemums, and a single, red, striped carnation. He eyed the other man.

"They're lovely," he said.

Byleth heard Claude sigh. "Byleth, I love you-"

"I know."

"-but I can't just forget. I can't..." Claude fell silent again.

"I don't expect you to."

The couple turned to one another and exchanged a look. Byleth gave his husband a reassuring smile and stood, offering his hand to him. Claude took it, allowing the other to lift him back to his feet. They took one last look at the grave and turned.

Later, after saying their goodbyes and returning to the monastery, Claude and Byleth retired to their shared chamber. It was where Rhea once rested, but, with her now gone, Byleth occupied the room. After all, Seteth and Flayn disappeared, never to be seen again, and no one else dared to sleep in the holy sanctuary that once housed their ex-archbishop.

But Byleth and Claude didn't care. They would use the room for themselves, but were too tired to engage in any intimacy. Not since their second wedding night in Almyra. They removed their armor and changed into more comfortable sleepwear, the latter shamelessly throwing himself onto the bed, causing the blankets to fly and the mattress to squeak under the sudden pressure. Byleth shook his head as he carefully climbed in beside him.

They bid one another goodnight, and rested their eyes, limbs tangled together as they held one another to sleep. That night, Claude did not have any dreams of blond hair and blood-stained armor. No piercing, blue gaze to haunt him in the morning. No screams of terror or flames eating away the flesh of his old classmates. He could only see darkness.

Peacefully quiet darkness.

* * *

Claude awoke with a yawn, sitting upright and stretching, causing a few bones to pop, while his eyes fluttered opened. He didn't see the brown door that closed Byleth's room off from the rest of the monastery, but rather the old insignia of his house, the brown deer standing proudly in the golden banner. Nor did he feel the weight of his husband beside him, or the comfort of the soft mattress that held them as they slept. Rather, he was in a familiarly uncomfortable bed that very much resembled the one in his old room.

"What the fuck?" he muttered aloud, his eyes darting across the room. However, he was only met with more familiar items.

There was his old desk, some books sitting stacked on the surface with a few note-scribbled papers strewn about. The golden rug that symbolized his membership in the Golden Deer house on the floor was clean without a speck of dirt on it. Not at all like how he recalled back during the war. Then again, the academy had once again been opened, this time to any wishing to attend, and it made sense everything would be returned to its former glory.

But Byleth had explained that, now with Fodlan unified, there was no need for different houses to compete, and so they rid the grounds of any separation between the three territories. Not only that, but he doubted anyone would be able to sneak him into his old room without waking him up. He was a light sleeper—had to be after all those attempts at his life when he was a boy—and it didn't make sense to remove him from his husband's chambers.

Claude needed an explanation, and without hesitation he left the room and began to storm towards the tower where his husband must still be resting. That was until he bumped into something.

Well, actually, _someone_.

"Whoa, hey! Be careful there, pal," exclaimed a familiar voice. A _painfully_ familiar voice.

Claude looked up, his eyes wide and nerves aflame, and his heart stopped as he stared into a pair of honey irises that, long ago, were filled with such pain and grief.

_"You let him die."_

_"He died of his own accord. There was nothing either of us could do to stop him."_

_"We made a fucking promise!"_

Claude's body began to quake, and his voice shook as he muttered out the ginger's name, "Syl...Sylvain...?"

The paladin quirked a brow. "Uh, yeah. That's my name. Hey, you feeling okay, Claude? You don't look, uh...yourself. No offense or anything, but you seem really jittery."

It couldn't be him. This couldn't be Sylvain. There was no way. He looked too young, too innocent, too lively to be that same, miserable man refusing to leave the comfort of his northern home. There wasn't any darkness behind those eyes. No frown etched on his face as he stared down at Claude. No hatred whatsoever in his expression.

_"You should've left me there to die," he hissed._

"Uh, Claude?" That voice. He hated hearing that damned voice. "Seriously, are you okay? Do you need to skip class or something? I'm sure the professor will understand."

"No." Too quick of a response. "No. I just... Bad dream. That's all."

Sylvain, this version of him, smiled. "Ah. I see. Don't worry. Everyone gets them sometimes. You'll feel better after a nice meal at the dining hall."

"As much as I hate to agree with him, Sylvain's right. You don't looks so good, Claude. You should get some food in you."

Claude whirled around, only to be met with a younger Hilda. Far younger than he knew her to be. Her cotton candy hair was put back into those pigtails she once adored, the academy's uniform giving her a cute schoolgirl look that made enemies underestimate her skill without a second thought. A deadly mistake. She looked just like she did back when they attended Garreg Mach. And, now that he thought about it, so did Sylvain.

The king ran back into his room, towards the mirror left unshattered by bandits when the monastery was attacked. The sight nearly made him vomit.

His reflection didn't show a weary king, exhausted from war and politics and nobles with sticks too far up their asses to listen to reason. There was no Almyran silk adorning him, no beard lining the edges of his jaw, and he could not see the ring he wore proudly on his right hand when he lifted it to stop bile from leaving his lips.

Instead of a single, wayward strand, he saw a small, neat braid dangling from his right side. He saw unruly hair that made him look more like a devilish rogue rather than a powerful noble with the well-kept mane he wore for years. His face was clean, no signs of facial hair whatsoever, and he just looked _younger_. Like the hands of time were playing some sick prank on him.

This had to be some sort of twisted nightmare.

"Claude... Claude. Claude!"

The noble turned around, faced again with those sickening eyes that made his stomach twist. The two stared at him, faces laced with concern.

"Claude, are you okay?" the younger Hilda asked. "We could skip breakfast if you're that upset. Class, too. The professor wouldn't mind so long as we tell him."

"Yeah. Are you sure it was just a bad dream?"

Claude wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know what he could say. If this was a dream, or a twisted joke being played, it didn't seem like he had much choice in the matter. So, he gave a simple shake of the head.

"No, I... I'm fine. I think I just need something to eat, and maybe a day off from classes."

Hilda and Sylvain exchanged a look. "Okay," the redhead said, "let's head to the dining hall, then. I've heard they've got Daphnel Stew today."

Hilda gasped. "That's your favorite! Come on, we definitely can't miss this."

Before the man—well, now boy, he supposed—could respond, he found himself being dragged away by his peers. They left the second floor of the dorms and up the stairs leading into the dining hall. All around him, Claude could see old friends, students and professors and knights alike, people who were once cut down right before his eyes, sitting together, laughing and eating, as if the war never happened.

And they all looked _so damn young_.

Hilda continued to drag Claude by the arm to get some food. He picked up a bowl of the soup, the aroma hitting his nose like an ocean wave, and stared at it as they went to find a seat. And goddess, Claude felt his heart stop when he saw who the pink-haired girl was leading him towards. Sitting around a crowded bench was his entire class: every member of the Golden Deer. Raphael, Ignatz, Marianne, Hilda, Lorenz, Lysithea, Leonie. All of them alive, smiling, and young.

Leonie didn't have her hair in a braid and her clothes weren't stained crimson. Hilda was sitting happily besides Marianne, who seemed so uneased by Lorenz's presence, neither one sitting in any sort of tension. Lorenz himself still had that ridiculous haircut. Ignatz was sketching happily away while chatting with Raphael and Lysithea, both very much alive whereas he last remembered them long dead, their corpses littering the battlefield. All of them, each of his Golden Deer, were _alive_ and _smiling_ at him.

Claude felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 1/28/2020 because Christ on a bike I need to stop writing when I'm tired I made so many grammatical errors.


	2. Blast to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up in his old bedroom at the monastery Claude creates a plan to stop the oncoming threat of war. However, he might need a little help.

What Claude didn't understand was how, and why.

His mind thought of a million reasons as to the latter, and a million ways as to how, he ended up back at Garreg Mach's Officer's Academy and in his younger self's body. He did exactly as he told Hilda and Sylvain and took the day off from classes, but only to try and wrap his head around things. But when he saw Byleth, his husband with beautiful teal locks and even prettier eyes, with his dark green hair and eyes that rivaled the insignia of the Blue Lions class, he could only give himself one answer: it was a cruel trick by the gods.

Some twisted joke on their part. Why else, when everything in his life was just finally coming together, would he be sent back into this hell? Why else would the young faces of his classmates—all who either died tragically in battle, took their own lives, or remained as walking corpses—haunt him so? This was no dream. Somehow, some way, Claude was sent back in time. Back to his days at the academy. And, by the looks of it, it was still early in the year.

No Flame Emperor. No threat of war. No fear lurking in every corner of the monastery. Not even the risk of someone else being kidnapped after Flayn had been rescued. Everyone was smiling, carefree, and happy.

Everyone except for Claude, whose memories of the war burned like hot iron in the back of his mind. Every time he'd look at his classmates, images of their marred and scarred flesh, or their dark, lifeless eyes, flashed before him, and then it'd all change back, and they would be smiling at him again. It made him sick to his stomach.

What was even worse was when he bumped into _him_.

Those baby blue irises that, not long ago, and yet so far into the future, glared at him with an animalistic hatred, were now shining brightly at him. His warm smile replaced the snarling smirk he wore when his eyes landed on Edelgard across the battlefield, an expression that change into one of rage if anyone dared to stand in his way. Well-kept hair that often got him teased sat perched on his head rather than the unruly mane, caked with blood and dirt, that was in desperate need of washing. 

Dimitri, a young and innocent version of him, stood before Claude and greeted him, "Ah, good morning, Claude. How are you?"

Claude swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm fine, thank you."

"That's good," the prince sighed. "Sylvain told me earlier that you looked unwell. He claimed you said it was nothing more than bad dreams, correct?"

The boy nodded, looking away, but said nothing else. He was too afraid his voice would fail him, and he'd burst into tears if he spoke any further. A blissfully unaware Dimitri let out a soft chuckle. A sound that made the king's heart jump in his chest yet, altogether, made it twist in agony, and he longed to hear the sound again.

"I understand. I...get them too, sometimes. It makes it so hard to sleep." The blond shook his head, as if brushing the dark thoughts Claude knew he was hiding away. He could picture the prince, older, more ragged and scruffy, screaming as the voices cried and ghostly hands clawed at his mind. But to think he experienced such trauma, even then—even _now_ —at the academy? "Anyway, I assume you've spoken to the professor, considering you aren't in class at the moment?"

"Uh... Yeah. I did." Claude didn't want to look him in the eyes, those eyes darkened by shadows and haunted dreams, and stuck to staring just at the center of his face. A trick he learned as a child. If one pretended to look their enemy in the eye so cleverly, they could get away with any lie. "What about you?" he asked. "I'm sure Manuela isn't too happy about you skipping her lectures either."

This time, Dimitri was the one to look away. A faint blush dusted his cheeks. "Ah, how embarrassing. Um... I suppose we're in the same boat, then," he replied. "I insisted on staying, but her and Dedue were just as much in me taking some time to myself. Although Dedue wanted to join me, I told him it would be better for the both of us if he stayed and copied some notes in my absence. That way neither of us would fall behind."

Ah, yes. The overly loyal Dedue. Claude couldn't help but recall his death as well, right there in the Imperial palace. Slain by a dark mage and desperate for revenge in the prince's name. He remembered a smile on the man's lips, blood seeping through his armor. His last words were but a wish, a hope to see his king again, before his eyes clouded over and he laid as nothing more than another corpse for them to bury.

"Smart move," was all Claude could say. The image wouldn't go away, lingering in the back of his mind.

"Indeed," the other answered, "but, since we're both void of our responsibilities for the day, why don't you join me in the gazebo? The professor seems to already have gotten his hands on some herbs for brewing." Then, blushing again, he added, "Th-That is, if it's alright with you."

_Dimitri..._

Claude wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to do nothing more than pull the prince into a tight embrace, cry into his chest like he once did before the war, and just get to hold him in his arms again. He missed Dimitri, this Dimitri, not the one who snarled at him like a beast and swung Areadbhar wildly, slaying every man who stood between him and the emperor with a sickening grin gracing his features. But he had to remember: at this point in history, they've only known each other for a few days, a few weeks at most, and he couldn't let his mask slip off so soon. No matter how badly he wished he could.

In that moment, Claude realized this to be a blessing in disguise. He had a second chance. If he wanted to, he could turn the tides and avoid their deadly fate. He could prevent the war, stop Edelgard, do whatever it took to preserve the friends he lost so long ago. The friends he was sure to lose once again if he did nothing but feel sorry for himself. He could go to Byleth, convince him to help change their fates, for he knew of the time-traveling goddess living inside his head. Claude could save them, save everyone. He'd wear his mask with pride if only it meant he could prevent the cruel ending that awaited everyone.

He could save Dimitri.

Finding his confidence once again, Claude gave the prince his signature smile and wink—he hadn't lost his touch yet—and enjoyed the flushed expression the other wore as he said, "Sure thing, Your Princeliness. Any time I get to spend with someone like you is well worth it."

Dimitri let out a soft chuckle. Oh, how Claude wished he could play that sound over and over until he, too, joined the dead. "Is that so? Well then, I shan't keep you waiting. Let's head over there now."

"Perfect."

Claude followed Dimitri to the gazebo, and enjoyed the tea they shared. Dimitri complimented the taste, though Claude knew the prince wasn't able to taste a thing, and they spent the rest of the afternoon in each other's company. They would laugh and share small stories, nothing Claude wasn't unfamiliar with but certainly nothing major, and drink their tea in a shared moment of peace.

They parted ways only when the sun began to set. The two house leaders bid one another goodbye, and Claude watched Dimitri retreat towards the Blue Lions classroom. No doubt to collect the notes Dedue had waiting for him. Once the prince was out of sight, the king set off to find Byleth.

The professor would believe him. He wasn't so sure back then when he was truly a boy, lost and afraid in a place unfamiliar to him, and felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn't know who to trust, who he could afford to trust, who would remain loyal and who'd stab him in the back. Back when everyone questioned the legitimacy of his inheritance to the von Riegan title. When the only way he knew how to survive was through his schemes and tactics. But now?

Now he was sure, more than he'd ever been. If he just spoke to Byleth, explain everything, he'd win his support. Even if that wasn't the case, he'd convince him, somehow, to help stop the Empire. He could even afford to allow himself to grow closer to his peers, his teammates. If they couldn't stop the war, he at least wanted his friends to feel like his friends when they died. No secrets. No lies. He'd tell them everything if it would just get rid of the guilt he's held for so long. The guilt that came with knowing they died feeling like he couldn't trust them.

Claude would fix this. He would fix everything. He'd stop the war, if he could, and fight confidently beside his classmates. After all, if he had to guess, it was still the beginning of their days at Garreg Mach. He had less than a year to expose Edelgard and Those Who Slither in the Dark, to save his classmates from their agonizing deaths, to save Dimitri from himself.

Claude practically raced to the Golden Deer classroom.

* * *

Dark, sea green hair and eyes as blue as the evening ocean. A look Claude had not seen in years, and one that was truly nostalgic. He remembered staring into those emotionless orbs and his curiosity spiked. He wanted to get closer to the professor, uncover his secrets.

If only he knew the secrets that hid right under his nose.

Byleth, this Byleth, caught sight of Claude from his desk at the other end of the room. Everyone else already headed out while he lagged behind, likely grading papers, and Claude felt grateful for the privacy. He dashed closer to the other until he was standing across from him, the desk the only barrier between them.

"Byle- I mean, Professor! There's something I gotta talk to you about."

Byleth quirked a brow at the house leader. "Is that so? Well, what do you need? Is it about the nightmare Hilda told me about?"

"Something like that..." Claude sighed. "Look, I know you're gonna think I'm crazy after you here this, but-"

"If this is another one of your schemes, I want nothing to do with it." The professor's voice was stern, but expression still unchangeable.

"No! No, just listen to me! I..." What was he supposed to say? He couldn't just go and accuse Edelgard of anything, not yet. He had to be smart about this. How could he earn the professor's trust?

...Oh, right.

"I... I know about the goddess living inside your head!"

Byleth blinked, once, then twice, and his face looked something similar to shock. "How did...?"

Claude couldn't help the smirk on his face. "Like I said, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I'm not the dashingly handsome Claude von Riegan you know." There was a hint of teasing in his voice, of course, but his tone and words held a heavy weight to them. "I... I'm from the future. Again, it sounds insane, but I promise that's the truth."

The professor was quiet, too quiet, and for a moment Claude wondered if moments like these were when the goddess spoke to him. He occasionally zoned out during class or on the battlefield, and such an expression only faded when he returned from the darkness with those teal locks and matching irises.

Finally, the professor spoke up, "If you're truly from the future, then tell me more about this 'goddess inside my head'."

Claude answered without hesitation. "Her name's Sothis, and she's been with you since you were a child. You'd have weird dreams of a young girl sitting on a throne and of a war that took place hundreds of years ago. There's a woman in your dreams, with long, green hair, and talks about Zanado, the Red Canyon, which is this month's mission for our house, before she stabs some old guy with a dagger. Need I go on?"

As it always has been before the war, if Byleth was surprised, he sure as hell didn't show it. But his silence spoke volumes to Claude. The professor eventually let out a sigh.

"Alright. Fine, I believe you," he said, "but if you're from the future, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be leading the Alliance?"

The irony almost made the king laugh. Instead, however, he shook his head. "Not exactly. We can talk about that more a little later. There's more pressing matters that need to be discussed."

Byleth sat straight in his seat. "I'm listening."

Claude smiled, a grin he gave when all the pieces were falling into place. He could tell the professor was still skeptical of his intentions—rightfully so, actually, for he'd feel the same in his position—and it'd take a little more than retelling the tale his husband told him during the war to earn his trust. He'd have to help Byleth uncover all the secrets Rhea and his father were hiding from him, but, in the meantime at least, what they had now was enough. He couldn't reveal too much without risking their chance of victory. The Almyran king stood with his arms crossed and his hip cocked to the side. A stance of confidence.

He asked the professor, "What do you think of Edelgard?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a whole timeline planned for this and it's still somehow garbage.  
> Edited: 1/28/2020


	3. Future vs. Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Claude attempts to adjust to the situation, his past—or would it be his future?—continues to haunt him.

It all felt so familiar, yet all so different.

Everything would flash from the past to the future, and back to the past again. It all haunted him. The walls, the people, the sky. It was only a week after the incident, and yet Claude could not seem to move forward. He didn't expect himself to. How could he, after all that's happened. All that was going to happen if he did nothing.

He spoke to Byleth about the future, though he made sure to avoid certain topics. He spoke of Edelgard's betrayal, the scene in the Holy Tomb, her connection to a group called the Agarthans, and her identity as the Flame Emperor. He talked about the war, the professor's five year disappearance, and the bloody battles that were waged. The professor didn't seem bothered by this information, and Claude suddenly missed the professor he left behind.

As he sat perched on the roof of the dorms, suddenly unable to sleep, as he recalled his dear husband. He thought of shining green eyes and teal hair that felt so soft to run his hands through. He thought of a bright smile and flushed cheeks in the golden rays of the sun. He thought of milky white skin bruised as he heard the man call out to him. He thought of vows, repeated twice over to finalize their union to the people of their homelands, and promises he realized he would never get to keep.

A pang of guilt washed through him as he let out a sigh.

This week was, to put it lightly, rough for the king. He couldn't look his peers in the eyes no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't bare to see them, so alive and well, when the mangled memories of their bodies were still fresh in his mind.

Leonie was without her braid, hair still short in a cute, tomboyish style. Her eyes were big and bright. Very unlike the narrow, darkened expression she wore before an arrow pierced her heart, pining her to the blood soaked ground. Her body was lost among the many at Gronder. Claude was not able to attend the burial, either, with the village too upset over her passing. They refused to let him attend. Yet, here she was now before him with a confident smile and even more confident attitude. If only she knew of the pain that awaited her.

Ignatz was more focused on his paintings than anything. He remembered how much he loved to draw and paint. A young artist with an ill fate. When Claude looked at him, he couldn't see the young boy with a green bowl cut and round glasses too large for his face. Instead he saw a tired man who willingly threw himself into battle, rage as his motivation and revenge his goal, only to be slaughtered like the rest, the name of his long lost friend the last thing he ever muttered before his skin turned pale and blood cold. The memory disappeared again, and he returned to the laughing artist who sat happily beside his food-loving friend. Two more souls they'd miss during the war.

Lastly, there was the cake eater herself. Lysithea's eyes were much more childishly illuminating compared to her older self. So big, round, and magenta, whereas the older one's always had a shadow to them. Claude remembered her smile, blood staining his glove as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding. He screamed her name as he watched the life slowly drain from her eyes, hoping to keep her from joining the ghosts she feared so much. He had her speak of cake, of all her favorite flavors, but it did nothing. Nothing but make her smile as she whispered, "what's your favorite, Claude?" before her breath finally left her. Another flash, and he was again greeted by the pouty child he had yet to hold on that battlefield.

The other students were no better.

Claude shook his head at the thought. No, no, he couldn't do this. He _shouldn't_ do this to himself. He knew better. Dwelling on the past did nothing. He himself said that once, so long ago, to a boy as lost as he who heard whispers in the night calling to him, begging for vengeance. Ghosts who demanded blood from him, keeping him awake in the dark hours of the night, and the only thing that could keep comfort in his mind being his company to keep their taunts at bay. He hoped that boy would understand, would learn, rather than become the monster he saw five years later.

Now, however, he was no different from that boy.

* * *

"Those bandits were nothing!"

"Yeah! We showed them!"

Ignatz couldn't help but frown at Lysithea and Raphael's enthusiasm. "I'm not too sure... It didn't feel right to kill them, you know?"

Claude almost laughed. _Ignatz... You were once so innocent._

"That's just battle for you," Leonie replied. "It's either them or you. Right Professor?"

Byleth gave a nod. He glanced over at Claude for a moment. He couldn't return the gaze.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but all that fighting's made me hungry," he said. "Let's go celebrate our victory at the dining hall, shall we?"

Everyone gave an excited cheer, and all of the Golden Deer house raced inside the monastery. Claude could faintly hear the shouts of Raphael challenging their peers to a genuine race with Hilda and Lysithea happily accepting the challenge. He watched them all go, lingering behind with Byleth, before the two slowly followed the group.

Byleth did not turn away from Claude. "You did well today." His expression was still blank, but the archer could see a mix of pride and trust behind those eyes. Even if the others could not. "You moved without need of my command, as if you knew everything that was going to happen."

"Not so different from you, eh, Teach?" A smile crawled to the corners of his mouth, yet it never reached his eyes. "That Divine Pulse thing sure comes in handy."

A look of surprise, if the other could manage one. "You know of that as well." A statement rather than a question.

He nodded. "We were...partners, in a sense, and you chose to come clean about everything if we were really going to work together so closely."

"I suppose," the professor hummed. "It would make sense. Complete trust is needed between allies of foreign lands. Keeping secrets would only raise suspicion between both parties, making any sort of negotiations difficult."

"That's...one way of putting it." _Shit, this is so awkward._ Claude didn't know what to make of everything now. He never thought working with his husband, who had yet to be his husband in the first place, would feel this strange. Of course, he had mentioned his position as King of Almyra and his own position as the new Archbishop once Rhea passed—in retrospect, Byleth wasn't even aware of the status of the Church of Seiros and its enemies, resulting in his neutral opinion of either side, so he doubted he'd hold a grudge against Almyra simply because of their conflict with the Alliance—but mentioned nothing of how either event occurred. Nor did he bring up their marriage. That would only further complicate things. He could just see _that_ conversation, and it gave him a nervous headache.

 _"You traveled back in time to save Fodlan even though we just got married, and now you're pining after your dead crush instead of me?"_ Yeah. No. There's no way he'd throw himself into that. He'd just have to tell the professor later.

Besides, it would feel rather uncomfortable on the professor's part for him to find out he married a student just when he started his teaching gig. The two didn't form any sort of romantic connection until halfway through the war, when Claude was already an adult and no longer a pupil. And while he had thoughts of being with Byleth at this age his mind was too occupied by the prince to fully understand what his sudden attraction could mean.

In short: Claude couldn't tell Byleth. For a number of reasons. So he remained ever silent on the matter, and stuck to making their relationship seem more platonic than it actually was.

By the time they caught up with the rest of the Golden Deer, Claude and Byleth finished their conversation. They grabbed their meals and sat at a small distance from the class. There was no need for them to hear their plans.

"So, tell me, when does Edelgard start this war?" the professor asked. "If we are to prevent it, we need some sort of deadline. A time set so we have everything prepared beforehand."

Claude nodded in agreement. He took a small bite of his food. "Our class was supposed to accompany you during some divine ceremony during the Ethereal Moon, but Edelgard's forces broke in. She came with them disguised as the Flame Emperor. When we defeated them, her mask fell off. She retreated, took the Imperial throne, and declared war against the Church. A month later, we fought her here, at Garreg Mach, and you disappeared during the battle." A grim look came over Claude's face as he recalled that day. "Many students and knights died trying to retreat. In the end, we lost, and had to flee to our territories. Rhea was kidnapped by Imperial forces, too."

A thoughtful look laid dormant behind those emotionless eyes Byleth possessed. He let out a hum before asking, "Do you know what happened to me?"

"You fell off a cliff. Some dragon came out of nowhere and started fighting the Imperial soldiers. It just...obliterated them. Demonic beasts eventually outnumbered it, and you got caught in the crossfire." Claude sighed. "The dragon threw one against the stone walls of the monastery, causing it and the ground to give out and collapse. You were caught under the rubble and fell along with the beast. We didn't see you again for another five years."

"And Edelgard's conquest began."

"Bingo."

This time, it was Byleth who took a small bite. "And what of the Kingdom?" Claude froze. "You told me the Alliance was nearly falling apart, and you were barely able to hold it together. Surely Dimitri would not abandon you or your friends. It is your duty as leaders of your territories to work together."

Claude didn't realize he had forgotten. When he explained the war to Byleth, he only mentioned that the Kingdom was struggling against the Empire as most of its territory declared loyalty to Edelgard. No thanks to Cornelia. Rodrigue took the position as leader of Faerghus's rebellion, so to speak. But he mentioned not a word of the Blue Lions or their house leader.

The archer let out a nervous laughter, his gaze falling to his food. "Well, you see, about that-"

"Claude!"

Speak of the devil...

Byleth and Claude's eyes turned to Dimitri and Dedue, both approaching their table. Claude played off his anxiety with a smile.

"Hey, Your Highness!" he chirped, giving a wave of the hand. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

Dimitri grinned in return. "We heard of your victory against the bandits, and simply wanted to congratulate you." The prince gave a small bow with Dedue following suite. "The professor seems to be handling his new position quite excellent. And, well, we see now why Lady Rhea chose him to teach your house."

"Yeah, that's Teach alright! Can't do much without him." Then, Claude gave a teasing smirk to the prince. "Though, my tactical genius would've been more than enough to get us through without a problem."

Dimitri let out a sigh. "If by 'tactical genius' you mean another scheme of yours, I'm not too positive on that one. I'm sure you would've accidentally poisoned your peers alongside the bandits..."

The archer let out a laugh, a blush dusting his cheeks ever so slightly. He prayed neither the prince or his vassal, nor the professor for that matter, would notice it. "Oh, ye of little faith."

The prince's face contorted into a small frown—more of an adorable pout if you asked Claude—as he turned to Byleth, "Professor, please make sure Claude doesn't get himself into any trouble. It'd be unfortunate if something were to happen as a result of his reckless behavior."

Byleth gave a nod. "Of course."

That seemed to satisfy Dimitri. He gave a small farewell, accompanied by another bow from him and Dedue, before returning to his table where Annette and Ashe were excitedly shouting about something. Claude watched him leave, his eyes lingering on the prince for just a moment too long, before he turned back to Byleth. When he did, he was met with a smug grin.

"Hey, what's that look for?" he asked.

Byleth shook his head. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking."

Claude didn't believe him for a second, but brushed it off. "Anyway, we should come up with a plan for how to stop Edelgard before the end of the Guardian Moon. That's when the battle happens."

"Indeed. But the question remains: how do we stop her?"

"It'll take some time, but I've got a few ideas. We should wait until it's, you know, less crowded."

Byleth hummed in agreement. "Very well. I'll move your certification test to next week. Tonight, in my room, we'll discuss this further."

Claude grinned once more. "Perfect."

"Just don't let Seteth catch you, or neither of us will hear the end of it."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Both men laughed.

The celebration ended, and everyone went their own way. Raphael stayed behind to eat some more food. Hilda accompanied Marianne to the library for some "quality girl time". Ignatz followed them, but didn't seem on planning to join them. He was likely interested in borrowing something before returning to his room. Lorenz disappeared in the midst of the partying, and Lysithea went with Leonie to the training grounds for some practice.

Byleth ran off towards the greenhouse to check on his plants, leaving Claude to his own devices. The archer stood in the reception hall, wondering what he could possibly do with this free time when he saw a very angry Felix storming away from an apologetic Sylvain. Suddenly, the images returned to him.

_"Fuck, fuck, this is all so fucking fucked!"_

_"Sylvain! We have to-"_

_"Felix! Stay with me, pal. Please, Fe, don't... Don't do this to me!"_

He shook the memory away, the sight of a burning forest and a sobbing Sylvain disappearing. He could hear their shouting, and his stomach began to twist. These two were always seen together, and Felix always became so upset whenever Sylvain flirted with random girls. Looking back, this scene made sense to him now.

He had to do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 1/29/2020 (unedited)


	4. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and Byleth need to stop Edelgard. But how?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Summary: Claude's sick of Sylvain's shit with a hint of plot and some bad writing cause my hands are numb af from the cold by Fall Out Boy

Just as Claude approached the distraught Sylvain, Felix stormed off to some other part of the monastery. Flashing his grin he asked, "Everything alright over here?"

Sylvain sighed. "Not exactly."

"Yeah, I figured, what with all the shouting Felix was doing. Do you two...always fight like this?" A legitimate question. Claude never paid much mind to Felix and Sylvain in the beginning. Not until he started getting more familiar with some of the more questionable Blue Lions, like Dimitri, Dedue, and, upon the mission concerning Lord Lonato, Ashe.

"More or less," the ginger replied. "He's just upset that I was flirting with a cute girl instead of training. I can't help it if I see a beautiful woman. What do you expect me to do? _Not_ compliment her?"

Claude felt himself cringe. "Uh... Yeah. Kind of."

Sylvain shook his head in reply. "No way. That's just plain rude. Can't just let a girl go without her knowing what she does to you." The Faerghus noble gave a light chuckle as his hands stretched to the back of his neck in a casual manner. A sign of his laid-back attitude.

Now Claude was beginning to see why everyone wanted to strangle him. Felix especially. Still, he wouldn't let his frustration show.

Holding his smile he asked, "Still, don't you at least consider how it makes other people feel?" His eyes darted towards the door Felix stormed through. "You never know who you could be hurting in the process."

The other's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 _You fucking blockhead._ "I'm just saying it's possible someone isn't too happy about your hobbies, and not just because it's getting in the way of your training."

This time, Sylvain followed Claude's gaze before turning to him with wide eyes. "What? Felix? Nice joke, Claude, but I doubt Felix would have any other reason to be mad about it."

Sothis, give this man the strength not to smack this boy! Claude was getting more frustrated by the minute. Each second he tried to convince Sylvain of his best friend's feelings, his patience was growing thinner and thinner. He released the tension with a heavy sigh.

"Just give it some thought. And, to make it up to him, spend some time together, why don'tcha?" A simple suggestion, but one the archer knew would benefit the two. "Give him some time to cool down, then, when the moment arrives, ask him to spar or train or...whatever the heck makes him happy. Maybe a night out on the town? I don't know, you know him better than I do." _But for the goddess's sake, just **be with him**_ , he silently pleaded.

Sylvain seemed to contemplate Claude's words. In a matter of minutes, a smile etched onto his face. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll go look for him and see if he'll let me train with him. Just to make this up. Hopefully he doesn't cut any of my limbs off with his sword..." Another light chuckle. "Thanks, Claude. I owe ya one."

"Don't mention it."

"Well, I'll see you around!"

And just like that, Sylvain was racing off to find Felix. Claude shook his head with a sigh as he watched the redhead run. To think this was the same man who nearly murdered him for dragging him away from battle. Away from Felix. He just couldn't see it.

This Sylvain's eyes weren't the same angry, hazelnut irises that flashed with rage every time Claude stepped into the room. Nor were his lips the same scowl he bore since the day Felix perished along with the rest of them. His skin was not pale, eyes neither hollow nor dark, and his stance was far too relaxed. But Claude knew he would become that man eventually. A man with regrets, with a thirst for revenge but lacking the ambition to seek it out. At least, not on the right people.

_"You left him to die. We could've saved him if we just-"_

_"Sylvain, there was no way we'd make it in time." Claude's stance was firm, but his nerves were starting to get the best of him. "He was bleeding out far too quickly. He would've died before we could reach any healers."_

_"Mercedes could've saved him! Annette could've saved him!" Sylvain hissed, "For fuck's sake, Claude, you had Marianne on the battlefield! Why couldn't she help?"_

_"Mercedes and Annette both died on that field, and Marianne had her hands full. Felix wasn't the only one clinging to life."_

_"We made a fucking promise to die together! But because of you-"_

_Claude knew he'd come to regret this, but in a burning passion of anger he growled, "If you wanted to die with him so fucking badly, then you could've taken your own life that day. I don't see why it matters anyhow. Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to get your daily dose of pussy you would've noticed how he felt just like everyone else!" A scowl on his face, his eyes cold and far too tired to register the look of shock on the other. "You never considered him in your skirt-chasing, Gautier, and now you'll come to live with that regret. That's more of your problem than mine. So before you start pointing fingers at anyone else, take a hard look in the mirror and scream at the person who deserves it the most!"_

Claude sucked in a hard breath at the memory. He remembered how hurt the noble looked, heard the venom in his tone as he declared his return to House Gautier to defend his home from the Dukedom, and how, after the war, Sylvain isolated himself there. He picked up his family's heirloom, the Lance of Ruin, and continued his legacy. No one heard from him since then. Not even Ingrid or Ashe, both who claimed they were escorted out of the estate upon their arrival.

Sylvain drowned himself in his regrets, and Claude refused to see him sink so low once again.

* * *

Byleth stared at the strewn piles of paper in frustration. He had to finish grading these, but he had some trouble focusing. The information Claude gave him still wracked his brain and confused him. Why would Edelgard start a war? To think she didn't even show any signs of such plans, but if anything the archer said was true then it was possible she planned this from the very beginning. Even long before he knew her simply as the confident girl with violet eyes.

 **"Still, you have to admit, it makes sense,"** Sothis whispered into his ear. **"Remember what one of the guards said? No heir to the Imperial throne had attended Garreg Mach for several generations. If the Empire and Church have as much tension as everyone says they do, why else would their own future emperor come just so...out of the blue?"**

 _Too true_ , he thought.

**"I still don't trust that boy, though."**

_Sothis..._

**"I'm not denying he may be from the future, or that his intentions are pure, but it makes me wonder: why would you tell him such vital information? He's hiding something, I just know it."**

_Sothis, it's unwise to find ulterior motives behind everyone's actions._

The goddess frowned. **"Byleth, just think about it. Even if it was to bring the leaders of Almyra and Fodlan closer, to create some sort of trust between you and him, what if it was Edelgard or Dimitri? Would you tell either of them?"**

Byleth dawned on it for a little too long, for Sothis huffed. A sign she felt she was correct.

**"My point exactly. Now then-"**

A knock came at the door, and Byleth's head shot up. A voice shouted from the other side, "Hey, Teach! It's me!" Sothis sighed. **"So much for subtlety..."**

Byleth had to agree. He sighed as well, standing from his seat to open the door. His brows knit together at the sight of Claude to express his disapproval. "I thought I said to come quietly."

Claude gave him a wink. "Yeah, but I didn't think you would be awake. You're a heavy sleeper, you know." This earned him a roll of the eyes. "Anyway, let's hurry so Seteth doesn't think I'm up to something."

"Aren't you?"

"No. _We're_ up to something," he corrected. Byleth heard Sothis groan, and he almost did the same.

The professor stepped to the side, inviting the archer in, and shut the door as Claude took a seat on his chair. Byleth chose his to be the edge of his bed, the two facing one another.

"Alright, so here's my first idea. Though I doubt it would work." Claude moved about, revealing a satchel he must've kept hidden—Byleth didn't notice it when he first came in—before pulling out a few sheets of paper. He passed a few to Byleth, who examined them carefully.

Maps of battlefields with tactics scribbled all over them as well as a map of Fodlan. Red circles marked important areas, their significance unknown to Byleth, but he recognized a few of them. There was Gronder Field: the site of the battle between the Adrestian Empire and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus back when the Kingdom annexed itself from its motherland and wanted to declare independence. He read up on it in the library during one of his more sleepless nights. There were also the capitals of the Kingdom and Empire, Fhirdiad and Enbarr, marked heavily on the map as well as Garreg Mach itself. The remaining locations were unknown to him.

"That map," Claude explained, "is something I've been working on for the past few weeks. I tried remembering as much of the war as I could, not like I could forget it, and marked all the battle sites we fought at. Garreg Mach, the capitals, and Gronder are just three of the more significant ones."

"How so?" the professor asked.

"Like I said before, you disappeared for five years. And when you returned we all showed up back here at the monastery. It was a small skirmish between us and a few thieves trying to steal from the place since it was basically abandoned, but that's when we finally started fighting back against the Empire." A small frown fell upon the archer's features. "It's also where the Kingdom came for our assistance after Gronder, and their arrival caught the attention of Imperial forces. We had no choice but to defend the monastery from their attack."

Byleth nodded. "And what do these maps have to do with your plan?"

"My initial thought was to keep them stored somewhere. With this, we could plan ahead of Edelgard's forces and possibly end the war much earlier. Think of it like a Plan B."

"And...what's Plan A?"

Claude paused for a moment. He was hesitating, something he didn't do very often, but he wondered how his idea would sound to the professor.

"I was hoping to talk with Edelgard. Let her know there's no reason for her to fight us, and whatever goal she wished to accomplish wouldn't require a full-scale war against all of Fodlan. If it was a personal goal she was hoping to achieve, I'm sure we could help her."

"What if it isn't?" came the second question. Just as the archer predicted.

"I'll just have to wing it from there," he replied. "But, of course, I know there's the chance she'll decline my offer anyway. That's where the maps come in."

Byleth hummed. "If she refuses to back down, then there's no avoiding the war. But at least we could be two steps ahead of her."

"My point precisely."

It was nearly genius, the professor had to admit. So fitting for the scheming boy he met only a month ago. However, this was both that same child and, yet, not. Byleth knew this Claude was different. All the same mysterious, aloof, and tactically excellent, but this one had seen horrors even he wasn't exposed to. For that, and that alone, he wanted nothing more than to put his faith in him.

But there was no telling how their actions would change the course of history. Even now.

The professor let out a sigh. "Fair enough. What of the missions, then?" he asked. "You didn't exactly go into full detail about them."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, Teach. Let's take it one step at a time." After all, Claude still wanted to enjoy this peaceful time. Along with the chance to save his friends, he also got a chance to be a teen again. He wanted to relive the good memories he had at Garreg Mach, and, war or not, he was going to enjoy them.

The two continued a little longer into the night, exchanging smaller ideas for their master plan. It wasn't until Claude felt himself finally yawn that they agreed to call it a night. The archer sneaked away and up to his room on the second floor of the dorms. He shut the door behind him and changed into something more comfortable. Only after did he jump into bed and lay his head against the soft pillows the monastery provided for their students. He shut his eyes, falling into blissful darkness as dreams came to him.

For the first time since he arrived to the past, Claude slept peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published: 1/30/2020 (unedited)


	5. To Comfort a Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri gets hurt, and Claude volunteers to help.

While their plan wasn't completely finalized, Claude figured he'd much rather spend the short time he has with his fellow classmates. So many faces he knows he'll see one day on the battlefield. So many people he once distrusted in fear his plans would all be ruined, causing him to create some distance, only for their deaths to make him regret placing himself far away from them.

Leonie's smile, Lysithea's pouting, Ignatz's laughter... So many things he knows he'll miss during the war.

But he had to put those thoughts behind him. He would not waste this second chance. He would get to see his friends laugh again, smile again, live long and peaceful lives.

Perhaps that was what prompted him to spend yet another day off resting and exploring the monastery rather than training. Claude lazily sat near the docks, his feet dangling off the peer with his emerald eyes glued to the bright, blue sky. He could see a pegasus knight hovering above the greenhouse and sighed. Everything felt peaceful. For once, he felt secure in letting his guard down. The Black Eagles were not making any moves just yet. It would only be after the incident with Miklan that Edelgard would truly put her secret plans into action. Funny. It almost reminded him of a game of chess what with this new found fate of his placing him as Edelgard's opponent. But whose king would be captured first, he wondered.

The king's thoughts were flushed away by the sound of a nervous Bernadetta. His eyes immediately recognized that mop of violet hair, and the initial shock of seeing her out of her room was overcome by her pleas.

"Dedue! Dedue, we've got trouble!" she shouted, beckoning the burly man from his happy place inside the greenhouse. Claude noticed Ashe following him outside.

"What happened?" the taller archer asked.

"I-I was going to join the professor for the Bow Tournament this month-" Ah, Byleth must've recruited her in hopes of keeping her from Edelgard. He certainly didn't remember her as a Golden Deer. Not in his first life. "-and when I walked into the training grounds I found His Highness on the ground. The professor told me to get you to carry him to his room while he fetched Professor Manuela."

At this, Claude bolted towards them. "Wait, Dimitri's injured?"

The trio turned to him, and Bernadetta nervously nodded. "He insisted it wasn't anything serious, but his arm didn't look so good..."

"I wonder what could've caused the injury. Almost no one can beat His Highness's incredible strength!"

Dedue hummed. "It is possible he injured himself while training. The professor might've walked into the aftermath much like you." He was referring to the purple-haired archer. "I will fetch him. Thank you for informing me."

"Hold on big guy," Claude chirped. "I can go get His Princeliness. You just stay here and finish whatever gardening you're doing."

The tallest of the group stared at him. His tone and expression did not change, but Claude could tell he didn't think it a good idea. "I am His Highness's vassal, and it is my duty to be at his beck and call wherever he may need me."

The brunette believed him. He knew of the man's fate. He would die in his prince's honor, his body joining the many in the Imperial palace that fateful day when the war finally ended. However, his eyes slowly drifted to Ashe. He could see a strained smile on the boy's face as his gaze was fixated on Dedue.

_"He's gone." His voice was dry and hoarse, as if he'd been crying for hours on end. Claude didn't doubt he did just that. "He's gone... He's truly gone..."_

_Claude placed a hand on the archer's shoulder. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. I..." He paused for a moment, searching desperately for the right thing to say. "I know the big guy would want you to move on. Keep him in your heart, but don't let the memories haunt you."_

_If Ashe heard him, he showed no signs of it. All Claude could see in those once shining, green eyes was a clouded darkness. Yet another broken heart among their ranks._

Claude shook the memory away, hastily replying, "Don't worry. I'm sure havin' some time to yourself just this once won't be so bad." He leaned in closer, his eyes landing on Ashe's figure standing beside them and ensuring Dedue's followed their movement. "Besides, wouldn't want to spoil your little date."

He noticed a hint of blush dusting the Duscar man's cheeks, his brows furrowing in a silent rebuttal. _It is not a date_. Oh, but Claude was good at catching his peers pining for one another, wasn't he? With a sly wink he pulled back. "I'll take care of ol' princey, don't you worry."

Another hum emitted from Dedue. His gaze quickly fell onto Ashe again before turning back to Claude, the movement so fast you'd have missed it if you blinked. "Very well. But I will visit him in the evening to ensure his safety."

"Not a problem. Now, go have fun ya crazy kids."

Dedue nodded in reply and gingerly gestured to Ashe for them to return to the greenhouse. The younger boy had a skip in his step as he followed the taller lad. Claude could only shake his head.

"Ah. Young love, wouldn't you agree Bernie?"

The introverted girl glanced up at him. "Huh? Oh! You mean them..." She gave a soft chuckle, the slightest hint of a smile on her face as her gaze followed the pair walking into the greenery. "I guess so. They are rather cute together."

The pair shared a soft laugh. "Well," Claude began, "I should go fetch His Highness before he breaks another limb or something. Catch you later!"

With that, the king departed from the docks and headed—albeit a little too eagerly—towards the training grounds. Bernadetta watched him leave with a smile. Once he was out of sight, Hilda approaches the archer.

"You saw that too, right?" the pink-haired girl asked.

Bernadetta chuckled. "Yeah. You were right: it's funny how quick he is to help everyone else figure things out. I can't believe someone like him could be so clueless."

Hilda only sighed in response. "Just give him time. He'll come around."

* * *

When Claude entered the training grounds, his excitement quickly faded into concern. The first thing he saw was Dimitri leaning against a pillar and attempting to stand. His arm was seemingly fine, but his leg was another story. His left foot appeared to be the thing injured. Not his arm. A small wave of relief washed over Claude.

"Twisted an ankle, did you?"

Dimitri looked up at him. "Ah. Claude. Didn't expect to see you," he replied. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I told the professor it was nothing, just a minor training accident, but he ran off to find Professor Manuela before I could get another word in."

Claude couldn't quite imagine in. Despite all the years he knew Dimitri, never once did the idea of the ever-graceful prince miss-stepping and injuring himself occur to him. It made him laugh, earning a frown from the other noble.

"I don't see how this is funny, Claude."

He attempted to stifle his laughter, though barely managed to accomplish the feat. "My apologies. It's just... I never thought you out of everyone could trip over himself."

Dimitri sighed. "Well, I am only human. Despite my title and position, I am no different than any other student here."

Ah. Of course. "Yeah, I get that," replied the archer. "Anyway, I came to help in Dedue's stead. Guy seemed like he was havin' fun taking care of those flowers with Ashe, and I thought he could use a break."

That seemed to bring a smile to the prince's lips. Goddess, Claude wished he could see that expression forever. The way his blue eyes would brighten up as they were swallowed by the depths of his stretching cheek muscles was mesmerizing. He could feel a faint blush decorate his features, and was suddenly thankful he was still some odd distance away from the prince.

"I'm glad. Dedue hardly ever tends to himself as it is. I knew of his plans with Ashe and hoped it wouldn't inconvenience him. Still, it was the professor's command to Bernadetta to fetch him." Dimitri seemed to relax against the pillar, his stance once again firm. He still had to lean on it to make up for the injured foot. "But I'm glad it was you who came."

Almost if realizing the context of his own words, the prince began to stutter, "Th-That is, to say, I'm glad you came to my aid rather than Dedue- No, that just sounds worse. Um..."

Sothis above, could this man get any more precious? Claude chuckled again, this time with a hint of nervousness his tone. Now both boys were left blushing. "Come on," he suggested, hoping to change the subject, "let's get ya to your room."

Dimitri gave a firm nod, deciding actions were more befitting for him than words, and allowed himself to lean on Claude as the older boy coaxed his arm over his shoulder for support. They slowly made their way out of the training grounds and towards the dorms. It was a lot of work, but they managed to get Dimitri up all those stairs and into his room. Claude dropped the prince onto the bed covered in blue sheets with an exerted sigh.

"That was a lot of work," he groaned. "Didn't think you'd be that heavy. That, or I'm just gettin' weaker."

Dimitri shook his head. "No, no, it's nothing like that. I suppose I just placed too much of my weight onto you. My sincerest apologies," he answered.

"Eh, don't worry too much about it. Well, now that you're safe and sound in your room, I'm gonna head to the dining hall to grab a snack. Got any requests, Your Highness?"

Claude used the title in jest, a simple, teasing nickname at best, but he couldn't help feel his heart sink as the blond gave a small frown. He had forgotten the prince's distaste towards such an address, but he managed to play it off easily with a wink, and the other boy was smiling again. Albeit, it wasn't as bright as in the training grounds.

"If it isn't any trouble, I'd love some saghert and cream. Or anything else, really. I'm not very picky."

Claude gave a nod. _Right, you can't taste_ , he thought to himself, _but good to know what you like_. "You got it," he said, and in a flash Claude made his way to the dining hall. He walked with a spring in his step, happy that he could aid the prince in any way he could and blissfully unaware of three giggling characters watching from afar as he disappeared up the stairs to the second floor of the dorms.

"This was a great idea," Bernadetta whispered.

Hilda chuckled. "It's good to see Claude in such high spirits. He's been mopping around for awhile now. Almost doesn't seem like himself anymore." She then turned to the (possibly) eldest of the trio. "Smart move there, Professor, but are you sure it was a good idea to trip Dimitri like that? I'm sure there could've been some other way to stick him in his room."

Byleth, as stoic as ever, bluntly replied, "It was the only thing I could think of on such short notice. I hated to do it, but I'm sure it will pay off in the end." The professor heard Sothis quietly agree somewhere in his mind. "He seems happier already."

"You could sure say that again. But now I think I'll just go back to my room."

"Bernadetta-"

"Bye Professor!"

Before he could stop her, the purple-haired student was already dashing away to the safety of her dorm. Byleth simply shook his head and turned to Hilda. "I heard they're serving fish in the mess hall today."

She gasped. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 12 in the morning and my sleep schedule is fucked.


	6. Before the Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Claude make plans to get information from Lonato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this took so long. I've been distracted by school and the new DLC (Hapi is best girl), and I've been trying to avoid Ashen Wolves spoilers like the plague ever since it came out cause apparently people have the time to go through the whole side story and then get to the timeskip???? How do you people do this??? Teach me your ways.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this! :D
> 
> Edit: so someone pointed it out that Ashe died at Gronder in this chapter when in the first one he was actually alive and running ex-Kingdom territory with Ingrid. So I went ahead and fixed it. Sorry 'bout that!

A few weeks had gone by, and Claude wished he could say it was getting easier.

The images of his dead friends no longer flashed as frequently, but they would always visit him in his dreams. Normally he had Byleth to cling to. Byleth, who was so warm and caring to not only him, but to the rest of the Golden Deer. They were each other's rocks, the very foundations of everything they held dear. But in the dark dormitory rooms of the monastery, Claude had none of that. No teal hair to bury his face into, no gentle fingers to run through his own brown locks, lulling him back into a deep and dreamless slumber. It was only him now.

The remainder of the weeks to follow were made up of days to rest, learn, and hone their skills in battle. It was during the last day off that Claude decided to visit the professor again to go over their strategy. Every mission they received would count. He and the professor agreed to sneak into one of the storage rooms of the monastery so as to avoid suspicion, less Seteth question them both as to why a student would knock on Byleth's door so late into the evening. It wasn't very often that students would attempt to have...relations during the night, when mood was set and there were little people around to stop them, but it's happened in the past. As such, guards have been kept to walk along the dorms as a means of supervision.

Byleth and Claude sat upon small crates, their map from earlier laid out on top of a larger box. Byleth pointed at the spot marking the battle with Lord Lonato. "This is where we will be meeting with Catherine to stop Lonato's forces," he said. "However, you said Lord Lonato and all those soldiers from the Western Church were executed before they could explain themselves. Correct?"

Claude nodded. "Lonato hated the church because they killed his son, who started a rebellion for a similar reason. But we never figured out what that reason was. Regardless, I believe the uprising was fairly justified. Just... Wrong time, wrong place, I guess? I'm not too sure. All I know is that it adds on to the secrets the church is tryin' to hide from us."

"And for that reason alone you believe we shouldn't trust them."

"Well," the archer replied, "not completely, anyway. Use them if we have to, as messed up as it sounds, but keep anyone dedicated to the church at arm's length." He leaned on the box between them. "Hanneman and Manuela will remain loyal to us once we get the chance to recruit them as part of our small army, as will Shamir and Alois. Seteth, Flayn, and Catherine are another story."

Byleth hummed in response. "If that is the case, then very well. It would be wise to not wholly trust the church if what you are saying is true. But then that raises the question: how do we figure out Lonato's plan? His motives?"

An easy response came to him. "If he were to die, not only will Ashe end up devastated, but we'd miss out on some important info. Both of which aren't good if we want to put an end to this."

The professor gave him a strange glance. "Ashe?" he asked. "I can see him being upset as a hindrance to his training, at most, but why would-" Suddenly a thought dawned on the other man. "...Don't tell me."

Claude sighed. "A little while after Dimitri was rumored to have been executed, alongside Dedue, Ashe ends up siding with the Empire."

"That...would make sense." Byleth pressed his hand to his chin in thought. "If everything holding you loyal to one side was gone, there is no point, and the Empire likely promised him revenge against the church for Lonato's death."

The archer silently agreed. He vaguely remembered cold, hard, green eyes at Gronder that shot anyone down regardless of what side they were on, and how they softened upon seeing the prince and his loyal knight still alive. How he did not beg for forgiveness, and, instead, offered himself to be slaughtered with the rest. He deserved such a fate, many said. But Claude thought otherwise. Were it not for him, the Almyran king shuddered to think of what would happen had he not made it in time. It was thanks to him that Ashe was one of the few who survived the tragedy.

Claude shook his head at the memory. He really needed to stop dozing off. What was in the past was in the past, and it was better kept there. He was able to create a future for Fodlan, one with less bloodshed, and he aimed to achieve that goal. He would not allow Ashe to join the fallen. He refused then, and he would refuse now.

"Anyway, there's a slim chance he'll tell us anything, but it's worth of shot if we manage to get to him before Catherine's forces."

Byleth asked, "So what do you suggest?"

"When I first went through this battle," he explained, "we cautiously moved through the fog, and Catherine's soldiers were able to get there before we could. If we have a few of our own people carrying torches to clear some of the fog, we'd have an easier time spotting any enemies and move quicker than the church."

"Interesting tactic." Claude noticed the faintest hint of a smile on the professor's face. "Sounds like a decent strategy. Who should we pair up?"

Claude smiled in return. He couldn't help it. Byleth never showed this much emotion this early on before, not in his first life, and he wondered if he had anything to do with it. The thought warmed his heart.

"I'd figure maybe we first send out anyone who could shoot a little distance away just in case a powerful enemy is up ahead. I'll take the lead with you while Leonie and Bernadetta stay behind us to carry a torch and light the way. Lysithea could remain on the sidelines with Lorenz holding their torch, with Raphael and Ignatz for backup, while Marianne and Hilda take our remaining positions."

"That could work. However..."

"And if anything goes wrong, you could always just use that Divine Pulse of yours to fix it." He gave a small wink to his professor. "You were always good at comin' up with last-minute strategies, Teach. I've got faith in ya."

Byleth's face, thankfully, could not be well seen in the dark room. They had only a single oil lamp to illuminate the place, and even then it was hardly enough to see the map. The professor felt lucky as a rush of heat hit him, and he knew his cheeks were the smallest shade of pink. He was usually so immune to Claude's flirting. What made such a genuine compliment set off such a reaction? Honestly, he didn't think he'd want to find out.

The professor grabbed the map, rolling it up and stuffing it just under the curve of his armpit, and took the lamp before nodding to Claude. "If that is all, then we should properly rest to prepare for the battle. Goodnight, Claude."

Claude stood up as well. "Right. G'night, Teach."

The brunette waved goodbye to his professor, waiting a few moments for him to walk out so as to put some distance between them. It would be less suspicious for any wandering students or guards patrolling the monastery. Eventually, he too left the storage room and headed back into his dorm. He was too exhausted to completely change into his sleepwear. Surely there was nothing wrong with resting in your undergarments, right?

Claude undressed himself with the little energy he had left before climbing into his small bed, covering himself in the yellow blankets that remained as the home for many books, some of which fell to the floor as he shuffled around to get comfortable. He'd pick them up later when he awoke.

That night, Claude wasn't greeted by nightmares of his dying friends. Only a strangely comfortable, inky darkness.

* * *

There were no classes the week leading up to the mission. As such, Claude thought it a good idea to visit the still-injured prince. He had kept his word to Dedue in that he would aid Dimitri however he could—though the other continued to assist His Highness instead—and, in the end, it all became routine to him. He would wake up, visit the dining hall, bring the prince something to eat before class, attend Byleth's lectures, talk to Annette, bring the prince any notes she wrote, return to the dining hall, get Dimitri something to eat, return to bed, and when the sun rose he'd rinse and repeat. There were also other small things he did for the prince, such as bring him tea and exchange stories of their homes with one another.

Claude never knew how Dimitri felt towards his homeland. Never knew if he was like all the others and would turn him away the moment he let his big secret out in the open. Never knew if he'd be disgusted with him, call him a beast, or whatever other insults he's had thrown at him. From strangers in the streets and some of the other students, he knew he could handle it. He suffered a similar fate back in Almyra—though no one has attempted to assassinate him here in Fodlan yet (emphasis on the yet part), only receiving suspicious glares from the other Alliance nobles and their families—but for those words to come from Dimitri? The archer feared his heart would shatter.

In the end, Claude never told Dimitri where he was truly from, neither the one from this life or his previous one, and spoke only of instances in Derdriu. The stories weren't nearly as funny as the ones he could've told, but that was too great a risk. Still, he was happy to get the prince to laugh from time to time. However, today would be a little different from all of that.

For starters: Dimitri wasn't in his room.

...Wait.

_Dimitri wasn't in his room._

_... **Fuck**_.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" Claude was thrown into a state of panic. Where could he have gone? He was in no condition to walk by himself. Was he kidnapped? No. It was broad daylight. No one with a brain would pull such a stupid stunt. Maybe Dedue got there before him and took the prince outside for some sunlight? Regardless of it all, his mind would not rest until he found the prince.

Claude dashed off from the dorms and raced around the monastery. The first place he thought sensible to search was the dining hall. He climbed the stairs facing the lake where Flayn and the professor were presently fishing and threw the doors to the hall open. His eyes scanned the vicinity only to come up empty handed. Neither a Dimitri in sight _no_ _r_ a Dedue. Okay. Where else could he check?

The training grounds? No. Dimitri's injured. He doubted he'd do something as dumb as train on only one foot. Actually...

No! No. Training grounds was a heavy no. If anything, he'd save it for last. Maybe the cathedral? He never considered the prince to be the religious type. Then again, Faerghus was pretty heavy on that stuff. It'd make sense for the royal family to be especially dedicated to the church and its teachings. Or maybe he was in-

"Claude?"

"Huh?"

The archer, still wild from panic, spun around to face whoever had just called his name. His green eyes landed, thankfully, on Ingrid. The blonde girl gave him a curious look as she asked, "Uh, what are you doing here? You look a little pale..."

"I..." Ingrid should know, shouldn't she? He remembered one thing about her: she was Dimitri's childhood friend. She'd keep tabs on his whereabouts too, wouldn't she? "I'm lookin' for Dimitri. You wouldn't happened to have seen him, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Score! "He's in the greenhouse with Annette and Mercedes."

"Great. Thanks. Catch ya later!"

Claude didn't hear as Ingrid shouted for him, pleading with him to slow down and wait. He rushed past her and down the steps, turning to run towards the greenhouse. It would make sense. It wasn't far enough from the dorms for it to be a hassle for the prince, but at least it wasn't' that stuffy dorm room.

When he opened the large doors to the greenhouse, his eyes blew wide open as the sound of laughter echoed in his ears and the sight of the three lions filled his vision. Annette was sitting across from Mercedes, placing a flower crown of white roses on her hair with one of her own sitting like a halo on her hair as bright as apricots to match. Between them was the prince, dressed lightly and sitting with his legs crossed as he attempted to weave a crown of his own. His blue eyes looked up to meet Claude's emerald green, and the archer could see a pink hue spread across his face.

"Claude? What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Well, I was going to your room to ask if you wanted tea. But you weren't there. So I went looking for you." He, of course, left out the part where he freaked out for a good two minutes and wondered if the prince had gotten kidnapped. "Didn't think you were well enough to walk out on your own again."

Dimitri gave a small hint of a smile. "Ah. My apologies. I supposed I should've informed you firsthand of my plans today," he replied. "Yes. While Manuela instructed me to stay clear of the training grounds for another week, she said I've healed well enough to at least walk around the monastery without any help. I'm sorry for worrying you."

Shit, why does his smile have to be so damn cute? 

"No, no, it's fine," Claude reassured the other. "Just be sure to warn a guy next time, yeah?" The archer released a nervous laugh, scratching at the back of his neck. A nervous tick of his. "Anyway, looks like you're having fun, so I'll leave you three to it. See ya."

Just as Claude began to turn away, Dimitri gave a shout. "Claude, wait!"

He looked back, green eyes filled to the brim with curiosity, when the prince approached him, placing the crown of white roses over his head. Warmth flooded through him, spreading everywhere from across his face to around his chest. His heart beat like a drumming thunder, and he knew he was making a face. At least his blush wasn't as obvious as that of the prince.

"Mercedes and Annette thought it would be nice for me to thank you with one of these," he explained. "It isn't nearly as good as theirs, but I've tried my best. Do you like it?"

"Like it?" Claude reached up, grabbing the crown gently before bringing it to his eyes. He stared at it, examined it, turning this way and that until a smile involuntarily came to him. He looked up at Dimitri as he placed it back on his head, spreading his smile wider. "I love it."

Dimitri smiled in return. "I'm glad you enjoy it. Even if the quality isn't nearly as good as-"

"No, no, seriously, I like it. It's..." _Beautiful, like you_. "It's great, really. I don't know how I'll be able to one-up you on this, Your Princeliness." Claude gave Dimitri his signature wink. "Maybe I'll have to surprise ya with somethin' with a little more flare."

That emitted a laugh from the prince. "I look forward to it then."

"Same here." Claude gave a playful bow. "I shall return on the morrow, Your Highness. See ya!"

With a shake of his head, Dimitri said his own farewell to Claude before returning to Mercedes and Annette's side. Claude walked off towards the dining hall hoping there was still some food left. He reached up for the crown again to gaze at it, no doubt his face was flushed now. He remembered something about the Garland Moon that Judith told him once.

_"When the warm winds blow from the from the sea to the south of Adrestia, residents of Fodlan know that the rainy season is upon them. Before the heavy rains take their toll, the young women hurry to pick the last of the white roses. The ivory buds are woven into garlands and given as gifts to close friends or potential lovers."_

Dimitri wasn't a girl, that was pretty obvious, but the gesture mattered all the same. He proudly placed it back upon his head and continued to make his way towards the dining hall. He knew he shouldn't give his hopes up. The prince simply could've seen him as a close friend.

Still, a boy like him could still dream, couldn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this also an excuse to not write a Valentine's Day oneshot?
> 
> The answer is yes. Yes it is.
> 
> Happy belated Valentine's Day!


	7. Mutiny in the Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude's plan to question Lonato doesn't go according to, well, plan.

Magdred Way. Daytime.

The whole Golden Deer class stood to the side as Byleth and Claude were left alone with none other than Catherine. As part of their plan, both the professor and archer were to remain oblivious to any information they would gather. At least, until they could be left alone with Lonato on the battlefield.

"It really is an honor to accompany Catherine, wielder of Thunderbrand. I hear you're intimidating enough to silence the howling winds!" Claude chirps.

Byleth gives a rather bewildered look. A genuine one. Ah, he must've forgotten to explain that part. "What are you talking about?" he asked the archer.

"You mean you don't know?" Catherine replied. She reaches towards her sheathed sword and pulls it from its confines. The weapon glows a bright orange color, the Crest Stone pulsating as if it were alive. From what Claude knew, it sure as hell was. "My weapon is called Thunderbrand. It's one of the Hero's Relics. A long, long time ago, the goddess bestowed divine weapons upon 10 heroes, which were passed down to their descendants. It's an honor to wield, but I'm afraid there won't be any chance for that today. Our mission is to help clean up the aftermath, not to fight."

"Speaking of... Why would Lonato incite such a reckless rebellion? He had to have known he had no chance of winning."

Catherine sighed. "It all goes back to the Tragedy of Duscur."

 _That damned tragedy again..._ Claude hated it. Hated talking about it. Hated even the mere mention of it. Though he always struggled to understand where the hatred stemmed from. Were it mere disgust at what occurred, it'd be understandable. But it was a deep and searing rage, one he could not easily quell, and that was where confusion struck him.

It wasn't like he was the one who suffered from the horrors of the incident. He wasn't the one haunted by ghosts late at night, or hated simply for once calling that place home, or still mourning the loss of a loved one who died in the raging flames. Claude had nothing to do with Duscur or the death of Faerghus's king. So why did it upset him the way it did?

Claude's thoughts were broken by Byleth's monotone voice. "I've heard of it, but never knew much of what occurred," he said.

"Well, it happened about four years ago. The king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus was murdered by the people of Duscur," Catherine explained. "But there's more to that story. They had accomplices within the Kingdom as well. Lord Lonato's son, Christophe, was one of them, and so he was handed over to the church for execution."

"But why was the king targeted?"

"King Lambert was attempting a major political reform, according to rumors. Makes sense he had some enemies." It was Claude who provided the information. He'd heard it before, and it stuck with him even through the war. Especially through the war, actually. Thanks to a certain mad king.

"Whatever the truth behind that incident may be, Lord Lonato has harbored resentment to the church ever since. Well... To be more specific, his grudge isn't only against the church. It's also against the one who turned Christophe over to them..."

"Report!" cried an incoming knight. "The enemy is approaching! They can't be avoided. Their numbers are far greater than we predicted. They used the fog to slip past the knights' perimeter!"

Catherine hissed a small "damn" before turning to Byleth. "It looks like our mission just changed, Professor." Then, turning to the rest of the Golden Deer and Knights, she shouted, "Everyone, prepare for battle!"

* * *

The plan was in motion. It was difficult to maneuver through the fog, outrun the Knights, _and_ defeat Lonato's own troops among the militia to avoid any casualties. There was an instance where Lorenz was nearly killed by a swordsman. Thankfully, however, Hilda jumped in just in time to save the poor fool. 

_And this is why we don't bring Lorenz on missions_ , Claude thought to himself. The man was always jumping head-first into a battle. He didn't even take the time to think. The archer recalled he did the same thing during the mock battle between all three houses, and he was sure he'd do it again had he lived to see horrors of Gronder Field during the war.

In his previous life, it was Ignatz who took out the mage who controlled the thick fog that now surrounded them. Well, if their plan was to work, the fog had to stay up to keep the Knights on their toes. They were moving slowly so as to avoid any surprise attacks. Meaning Byleth and Claude had to guide the class to the northern end of the field and away from the dark mage. On the other end waited Lonato.

Claude was the first to reach the Kingdom lord. In the thick fog, he could hardly make out the armed figure sitting atop of the well-armored horse. The man glared at him something fierce, likely recognizing him as one sent to defeat him, as he hissed at the archer, "You have been deceived by that witch... I will show you the truth!"

Now came the tricky part...

Claude could see Byleth coming up behind him, holding his blade carefully. If anything went wrong they'd have no choice but to fight back. He nodded to the student, who nodded in return. It was time.

"Wait!" he shouted. "Listen, we were sent by Rhea to stop you, but we've got some questions to ask first."

Lonato scoffed. "Do you honestly think I could be so easily deceived? You will die with the rest of these wicked souls, so I suggest you stand aside!"

"No, I'm serious! Just... Just tell us, why are you rebelling against the Church?"

Byleth stepped closer, if only a foot more. "We understand your son was involved with the Tragedy of Duscur and was executed for it."

"Lies! Filthy lies!" Lonato's fury could not be more clear, even in the heavy clouds resting around them. Claude could make out a mix of grief, pain, anger, and a lust for revenge on the old man's face. "My son had nothing to do with it! The church is corrupt. They tell everyone what they want them to believe! Christophe would never turn his back against His Majesty!"

Now that was interesting. Claude couldn't help but ask, "So if it wasn't him, then why would the Church accuse him?" Could he have been a scapegoat? To be made an example of? What were the Church's motives? What could they possibly get out of it if he was truly innocent?

"I-"

"Lord Lonato!"

 _Fucking shit.._. Claude and Byleth turned to see Catherine rushing through the fog. Neither one could understand how she managed to catch up to them so quickly, but Claude knew she had to be stopped.

"Wait! Don't-!"

"You!" growled Lonato. "I will be the one to kill you, no other!"

Catherine's eyes narrowed, her blade glowing its orange hue as she held it close, preparing to strike. "You have lost all sense of justice. You want to fight me? So be it. I'll send you to meet your goddess."

Yeah, there was no way this was going to end well. Claude quickly jumped to Byleth's side. "Professor, we have to-"

"Claude, look out!"

The archer's vision blurred, everything seemed to be doing that now, as Byleth quickly threw him aside. The sound of metal clashing echoed in his ears, and when he looked up from the ground he could see the professor standing over the corpse of a paladin dressed in blue. One of Lonato's soldiers. They must've attacked him, hoping to protect their lord. While he was glad Byleth made it out alive—of course he did, he was Byleth—it was a sad sight to see nonetheless. But that could only mean...

"Gah!"

Claude's head snapped towards the sound of his defeat. Green eyes watched, angered and horrified, as Catherine withdrew her blade from Lonato's body, which proceeded to collapse to the ground with a hard _thud!_ followed by dust lifted to the air. Lonato's gasping was all he could hear.

With a shaking sob the man whispered, "That vile woman... Christophe... Forgive me..."

Their plan... How disappointing. Claude would not mourn for the man, no. That was not his job. But to think, even with such careful detailing, he would still fail. All Claude could feel was disappointment.

Catherine let out a sigh as she sheathed her blade, Thunderbrand's glow disappearing. She gazed upon the body of Lonato for another moment, lingering over him, before turning to her troops and calling for a return to the monastery.

Claude's mind became a daze on the walk back. He faked an injury so as to just have a chance at isolation. He needed it now more than ever, if he was honest with himself. The rest of the Golden Deer walked on ahead, and only Byleth remained at his side. The professor didn't bother speaking to him. Neither one exchanged a word on the trip, even as news of the attempt on Rhea's life kept everyone around them buzzing like bees.

Claude just...needed to be alone with his thoughts. Just for a moment.

* * *

_Imperial Year 1180. 30th_ _day of the Garland Moon._

_We had it. We almost had it. But I guess it just wasn't enough, was it? Seems the "Master Tactician" has lost his touch. Ha..._

_I've only been back for a good month. Maybe it two? Gods, time feels so surreal ever since I woke up back at the monastery as, well, my younger self. Sometimes I wake up and wonder if it was all just some bad dream. But then I look in the mirror, and sure enough I'm still 17 all over again. I'm starting to miss my beard. It took almost forever to grow, too. How unfortunate._

_...Okay. Enough with the jokes. Truth be told, I'm terrified. If my scheming wasn't enough to stop Lonato from getting killed, or even getting any kind of valuable information out of him, then who's to say it's enough to stop an entire war? What if nothing I do matters, and everything just happens the same way it did before? Was I even sent back on purpose then? Or is this really all some twisted joke on the goddess's part?_

_Edelgard will still try to conquer Fodlan. Byleth will still disappear. War will rage like burning flames across this land. And Dimitri..._

Claude stopped, the quill hovering over the page in his shaking, wavering grip. A bead of sweat slowly dripped from his temple, and the archer felt his heart cease. The glow of the candle to his right created shadows in the small room as the stars outside his window lit the dark sky above.

Nightmares of that monster in Gronder still haunted him. Sweet dreams of sleepless nights with the prince, when they were still so young and blissfully unaware of the tragedy to befall them, were enough to make him spew his breakfast all over the floor. The nostalgia of it all sickened him. How much more was he meant to bare?

His train of thought came to a halt when a knock came at his door. He nearly fell out of his chair as he whirled around, eyes glued to it as if the door itself was but an illusion. He heard nothing for a moment before another knock followed the silence.

"Claude?"

Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The archer pulled himself away from his desk to open the door, his tired eyes landing on the ocean blue irises of the prince. Dimitri suddenly shrank away.

"Ah, my apologies, I haven't woken you, have I?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Couldn't sleep." Honestly, how often was this guy going to pop up out of nowhere? "Did ya need something?"

"Oh. Well, I heard from some of the other students in your house that you didn't look so well on your return to the monastery," he replied. "I was hoping to check in on you is all. I hope I'm not troubling you."

Claude couldn't help the smirk that landed playfully on his lips. "Aw. How sweet of you to be worried about me," he joked. "What an honor to have His Highness be so concerned over little ol' me."

Dimitri gave a small frown that almost looked like a pout. "Claude, this is serious. Are you alright? Everyone's been saying you looked...out of it."

"Yeah, I'm fine," the archer sighed, lying through his teeth. Not like the prince would pick up on it. "Just a little...disturbed by the mission is all. Needed some time to get my thoughts together." There was some truth to that one, however. Claude just felt he needed to be alone, away from the others. Only he could understand the weight of the day's events. "Figured I could write 'em down to get it out of my system."

"Ah, yes. I've heard journaling what's on your mind can do wonders after a troublesome day." The prince gave a small bow as he continued, "Forgive me for disturbing you, then. I hope you can catch some sleep before the sun rises. Goodnight, Claude."

With that said and done, Dimitri began to walk back towards his own room. Claude watched him, if only for a minute or two, before he shortly recalled something.

If his memory served him, the prince had trouble sleeping as well. Moreso than he. Claude was just a light sleeper, had to be for the sake of his own life, but the prince was another story. He never knew why. Never figured it out or discovered the secrets hiding behind that storybook charm and smile of his.

Well, even if he couldn't stop the war, he would rather be damned to the eternal flames than let _everything_ go unchanged. He sighed.

"Dimitri," he called to him. "Wait..."

The prince turned, surprise etched onto his face. "Yes?" he replied.

Claude left the safety of his room, racing towards the prince ever so quietly until they stood only a foot apart. He wore a lazy grin, his green eyes once again meeting Dimitri's sparkling blue, before he gave his offer.

"Since neither of us seem to have the chance of catching any Zs tonight, why don't we go on a little stroll around the monastery?" It was something he and Dimitri never did before. Not until just moments before Edelgard's betrayal. "We can sit by the fishing pond and gaze at the stars, or just chill in the greenhouse. Hey, maybe you can teach me how to make one of those flower crowns you were working on with Mercedes and Annette."

Dimitri's face seemed to brighten up at the idea. A small smile reached his lips. "That sounds fun. Though I doubt I could be as good of an instructor than either of them."

Claude shrugged. "Eh. We'll figure it out," he replied, winking at the prince.

There was a twinkle in the prince's eye as a pink hue dusted his pale cheeks, his appearance seeming to glow in the moonlight streaming from the windows of the hall. "In that case, I accept."

"Sweet," answered the archer. "Let me just change out of these first." There was no way he was hanging out with the prince in his pajamas. That would just be embarrassing.

The other nodded in reply. "Of course. Take your time."

Claude smiled at Dimitri. Not a grin, or a sly smirk, but a smile. Something he felt he hadn't done in a long time now. Not since his return to the monastery. It felt...nice. At this rate, tonight was bound to lift his spirits. He was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Replaying BL for the sake of S-Support with Yuri is driving me into such boredom that the only part I've found I still enjoy is watching Dima go ape shit in the Holy Tomb. I'd do it in CF or SS, but I'm already S-Supporting Jeritza in CF and past the timeskip... And I really don't wanna play SS just yet. One route at a time. My braincells can't handle anything more than that.


	8. To Make a (Broken) Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude knows he's left something behind in this new world, but when he's with Dimitri it's the farthest thought from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. A lot's been going on, and I just found a WiFi signal that'll work since the wiring for our router got bugged out. Gotta wait for someone to show up and fix it later today.
> 
> Anyway, I've been meaning to get to this chapter, so here we go!

Byleth stared at the wood of the desk, hands clasped together and eyes seeming distant.

It had been five months since Claude disappeared. Five. When the archbishop awoke to find the other side of his bed empty he thought nothing of it. Claude always woke up in the early hours of the morning, even as a student, and the man believed his husband had gone out for a stroll.

Then hours went by, and hours turned into days, days into weeks. Byleth was never one to panic, but he could not ignore the lack of Claude's presence forever. By the end of the second week he called for a search party. Alois happily led the charge. The man was always like a brother to the archbishop, even if his puns were terrible, and so he trusted him with the mission.

Despite the Knights' best efforts, Claude was nowhere to be found.

The half-god remained hunched over his desk ever since, worrying day in and day out, wondering when his husband would ever return. Had someone broken into the chambers and taken him away? Impossible. Claude would've easily outsmarted the culprit. His wits were above that of any other man he's ever met. And surely the man would not just abandon everyone. Not after he accomplished everything he's dreamed of. Not after they finally tied the knot. Claude would never just up and leave the people he cared about.

A sigh was heard across the room, but Byleth didn't bother to see who it was. The voice was enough to let him guess.

"Yuri," he greeted. "Is there something you need?"

The violet-haired man frowned. "Yeah. You to stop sulking, for once."

This time, Byleth turned to him. "I'm not sulking," he insisted.

"You are," the other retorted. "Come on, how long has this guy been gone? No offense, but eventually you've just gotta bury the hatchet. If he hasn't turned up yet there's a good chance he's either not coming back for a long time, or at all. And you've been working the Knights to death."

The neon brows of the ex-professor furrowed. "I've told Alois-"

"I know, I know. But seeing that sad look on your face all the damn time is only making everyone look harder, you know."

The other man had a point. To say Byleth was depressed over Claude's absence would be an understatement. At first, he would only take short but frequent breaks during work. Then came the sleepless nights, followed by a series of days where he'd do nothing but stay awake. It had gotten to the point where Seteth and Flayn finally returned to the monastery, if only to ease Byleth's worries and take some of his workload off his hands to avoid further stress.

Not only that, but the report from the territorial representatives was literally a day away. Twenty-four hours until he had to hear an hour of yet another "we still can't find him", and twenty-four hours until his students would be at one another's throats again. Everything about this was just disheartening.

"I just don't know what to do," he confessed. "I'm worried. What if he doesn't come back?"

Yuri's expression softened, and in those magenta eyes of his Byleth could see only sympathy. "Then you'll just have to come to accept that. You can take as long as you need to, but Byleth..."

The violet-haired man approached the archbishop, placing a gentle yet firm hand on his shoulder. "You're the leader of Fodlan, and your people need you. No one ever said this kind of thing is easy, but this is the reality we're facing now. If von Riegan doesn't show up soon, we might as well accept that he won't ever be coming back. Whether he's dead or alive."

Byleth wished he could agree. He wanted nothing more than to just move on from it all. From the stress, from the anxiety, from the rumors spreading across the nation like wildfire. Rumors of Claude having a mistress, of his corpse laying at the bottom of some pit. There were too many to keep track of. But inside, it felt wrong. Wrong to just forget anything ever happened. Wrong to brush this aside like it was just some minor inconvenience.

Claude was a leader, a friend, a husband. His husband. To simply abandon him in his likely time of need made the already throbbing ache in his chest twist his silent heart, like a knife sinking further into its victim. Claude had been through too much. He couldn't just leave him like this.

The archbishop did not look Yuri in the eye as he muttered softly, "I'll give it some thought."

The other gave no reply. A simple hum and a nod of the head was all Byleth was given in return before Yuri turned on his heel and left, the door shutting gently behind him.

Byleth was once more left alone in his chambers.

* * *

The smell of smoke and sound of crackling fire was distant to Claude's senses as he sat across from the prince, emerald eyes locked onto Dimitri's features. Those pink lips emitting such joyous laughter, those bright eyes that held the whole ocean and sky within them, that mess of golden hair sitting perfectly above him like a halo.

Dimitri was the textbook definition of a charming prince. Strong, chivalrous, and bearing looks that'd make any guy or gal fall to their knees the instant he asked them to. Of course, the Faerghan prince was not so cruel as to abuse his power. The king's point still stood. Anyone could look at Dimitri and just be mesmerized. If they weren't, well they were just crazy in Claude's opinion.

The two were enjoying a nice cup of warm tea under the gazebo, crickets chirping happily in the grass and bushes surrounding them. Remembering Dimitri's lack of taste, Claude did not trust the prince enough to make it. So he took the liberty to brew their drinks himself. He was no master, but it was good enough.

"So," chirped the prince, "How are you enjoying the monastery so far?" Ah, a clear attempt to make conversation. The night had been silent between them, so it only made sense the blond would hope to chat at least a little bit.

Claude's mind flashed in panic, the memories of those blinking images the first to pop into his head, before he calmed himself. "Well... It's nice to see everyone be friendly with each other, I guess. Especially since we all come from different territories. I thought there'd be a lot more fighting." A small truth, something that threw him off when he first arrived at Garreg Mach. Though he was still but an outsider, it was somewhat comforting to see such unity between different people. It gave him a glimmer of hope when his dream seemed too big to achieve.

Dimitri smiled at his response. "Indeed. It certainly will make things easier once we rise into our proper positions and have to tend to national relations. That is, regarding you, Edelgard, and myself. And it allows the others see us as more than just an emperor, or king, or duke."

There was also that bonus. As well as...

"Yeah, and I get to know you a little more personally, wouldn't you say?" Of course, he had to follow up with a wink on that one, which did nothing but bring a red hue to the prince's cheeks. It was an adorable look on the other teen.

"Y-Yes, that too, I suppose." Dimitri cleared his throat, eyes darting away from Claude's smug grin. "Anyhow, I love this brew you've made. The aroma is different from what we usually drink, however. What is this?"

Claude fell silent for but a moment, hesitation creating a tense atmosphere that the archer was sure only he could feel. "Almyran pine needles," he replied. "A few merchants managed to smuggle them into the Alliance, and, well, they were just so popular we didn't really do anything to stop them."

The blue of Dimitri's eyes glowed. "Ah. How interesting."

"Yeah, and ironic." Whoops. Didn't mean to let that one slip out. Yet, Dimitri only gave a light, somber chuckle. One Claude did not expect.

"I suppose so. The Alliance and Almyra are constantly battling one another, correct?"

That was one thing Claude was sure to not forget when he returned. "More or less. Hilda's older brother keeps them at bay up by Fodlan's Throat. So they never really cause too much trouble."

Dimitri nodded. "Do you think peace could exist between them?" he asked. A sudden but not unexpected question.

Claude knew very well of Dimitri's dream to recreate the friendship his father built between Faerghus and Duscur, starting by proving the latter's innocence in the Tragedy. To know he never got to achieve such a dream, at least in his past life, made Claude's heart twist something terrible.

"I'll be sure to work on it once I claim my rightful place as Duke," Claude answered. "And when that happens, don't think I'll be leaving you in the dust."

The statement seemed to confuse the prince. His eyes blew open wide, brows arched as far up as they could go as surprise graced every feature on his face. "What do you mean?"

A smile was placed upon the archer's lips, one that, at a glance, appeared almost playful. But anyone who knew the king understood the authenticity behind it. "I mean that dream of yours to help Duscur. Once we're both in power, why don't we help each other?" It was a mere suggestion, one Claude did not put too much faith it. However, if Dimitri agreed to it, the promise they were going to make would ease his mind of this new future. "I'll help you build better relations with the people of Duscur, and rebuilding everything that got destroyed, and you can help me improve relations with Almyra."

The quiet that followed his proposal did not, in any shape or form, help lay Claude's worries to rest. For Dimitri to accept was a longshot. One he would happily brush aside and forget the moment his offer was refused. But when he saw another smile stretch across the prince's face, when Dimitri, for the first time in years, look at Claude with hope in his eyes, such thoughts immediately faded from the king's mind.

"Yes," replied the blond. "I'm not sure how easy it will be, even with the two of us working together, but I know we can do it. If we could convince Edelgard to join in our efforts as well, then surely there is nothing that could stop us."

Claude returned the gesture, though his smile was weaker than the younger teen's. He wasn't so sure about the part with Edelgard. Maybe if he could talk things through with her, assuming there was any hope in that plan at all, but he otherwise believed such a thing would be impossible.

Once the war came, one of them would have to die. Claude could only hope that one would be Edelgard, as cruel as it sounded, for losing Dimitri yet again would be too cruel on fate's part. How could the gods send him back with another chance only to have history repeat itself? To see the prince coated in blood again, to see his single, lifeless eye stare into the blue sky that sat above the flames, to hear his own cries echo across the now empty field of Gronder...

_"Calm down, Dimitri! What does it achieve, us killing each other here?"_

_An orb of blue glares at him, so different compared to the smiling pair he once knew, accompanied by sharp, white teeth bared in fiery rage. "Move, Claude. I have no time to exchange words with you."_

_The archer could only frown. "It doesn't matter what I'm saying, does it? You aren't even listening." A sigh escapes his lips as he reaches for Failnaught. "But I'm not gonna budge."_

No. Claude would see to it such an exchange would never come to be. The future king smiled warmly at his companion, lifting his teacup in a gesture of a toast.

"In that case: here's to a brighter Fodlan."

Dimitri raised his own cup, clinking it against Claude's as he answered with cheer, "To a brighter Fodlan."

With a sip from their cups, their promise was sealed. All that was left was to keep it, even during the war. Claude hoped that, this time, things were not easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this was kind of shorter than what I usually write? But I haven't updated this in so long and I'm really sick right now (WASH YOUR HANDS) so I can't be bothered at the moment.


	9. The Sword of the Creator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer's new mission comes too quickly, but Claude can work with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to plot.

Their next mission was to guard the monastery during the Rite of Rebirth.

Claude remembered feeling suspicious about the letter Lonato had in his possession. Now, he understood what the threat truly was, and it seemed Byleth understood as well.

"What do you think, Claude?" the professor asked.

The archer scoffed. "People don't just carry around secret notes. I think someone wanted us to find it." He'd explain everything to the professor later. For now, he must feign ignorance. Well, as ignorant as someone like him could be.

"Do you really think the assassination plot is just a distraction?"

"Oh, yeah. That makes complete sense," Hilda replied, ignoring Ignatz's question. "But then...what are they really after?"

"It probably involves somewhere that will be empty during the Rite of Rebirth."

Lysithea's gaze fell to the floor. "Since the ceremony is at the Goddess Tower, it follows that everywhere else at the academy will be severely understaffed."

"Do you think they're after the church's donation money?" suggested Leonie. "I hear noble families tend to donate quite generously."

"My bet's on the dining hall. It's a treasure trove of delicious food. Makes me angry just thinking about them getting their grubby hands on it!" Claude nearly let out a chuckle at that one. Classic Raphael.

"Let's split up and look around! I'll keep an eye on the reception hall."

The archer looked to his right hand. "You should get some training if you have the time, Hilda. There's a good chance we'll have to fight."

He received a scowl in response. "I'm not the only one who needs to train here! It's not right to single me out like that."

Claude shook his head. He remembered Hilda's might well, even before the war, and there was no mistaking her capability in battle. However, he knew how her laziness could get in the way of things. Though there was no time for reminiscence now. The brunette noticed a familiar figure approaching, followed by a much shorter one, and another flash came to him.

Shamir, with her dark hair no longer covered in the blood of her enemies, was as stone-faced as ever. Her lack of expression nearly rivaled that of the professor's. Beside her was Cyril still dressed in rags. Even the hardships of war did nothing to phase the younger boy. So long as he believed he was doing what Rhea wanted, nothing else mattered to him.

When the two finished their chat with the professor, everyone else scattered. It was then that Claude chose to pull Byleth aside. The two hid away in the emptiness of the Golden Deer classroom.

"I'm assuming this is about the mission," Byleth said.

Claude nodded. "They're not actually after Rhea, or gold, or the food in the dining hall." The little snort from Byleth didn't go unnoticed. "It's the Holy Mausoleum."

Byleth let out a soft hum. "That would make sense... Still, it would be best if we continued to gather more information. It isn't that I don't believe you-"

"-But it'd be suspicious that we suddenly just knew. Yeah, I figured that." Time travel was always tricky in that aspect. Even if you knew everything that was to happen, spilling the beans would only bring the attention to you. Another hum came from the professor.

"Then we are on the same page," he replied. "I'll go around and ask. You do what you must to prepare. And Claude..."

"Yeah, Teach?"

A hint of a smile spread across the professor's face. He placed a gentle hand on the archer's shoulder, surprising him, and though his eyes were as blank as ever Claude could just imagine the sincerity behind them. "Do not allow what happened with Lonato to lower your spirits. There was nothing to be done there, but that doesn't mean you can't change this world at all."

Claude's body grew warm, and he allowed himself to smile in return. "Yeah... Don't worry, Teach, I've got this."

It was Byleth's turn to nod. He released his hold on the archer and rushed off to investigate. Claude was left alone in the classroom, heart filled with hope.

This time. This time things would be different.

* * *

"The Rite of Rebirth is finally underway. Time to see if our hunch was right."

Hilda let out a groan, rolling her eyes in displeasure. "I hope it's not. Then we wouldn't have to fight anyone."

"Our hunch is right," replied the professor. "There is no mistaking it."

Ignatz nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. "We've all come to this conclusion together. I'm sure we got it right."

"Right or wrong, the clock is ticking. All we can do now is stick to the plan."

"Well, you all seem a mite too relaxed for my liking..."

Ah, the stick in the mud himself: Seteth. The archbishop's right hand approached the Golden Deer with Flayn treading behind him. His ever-present scowl was glued to his face in stark contrast to his sister's—or, really, daughter's—bright and enthusiastic smile.

"The Goddess's Rite of Rebirth is about to begin. While we are in the Goddess Tower, we are relying on you to secure the locations that are lacking in defense."

Claude ended up zoning out for the rest of that conversation. He'd seen this song and dance before, and had zero interest in hearing another one of Seteth's lectures. Even if they weren't directed towards him. Once Seteth and Flayn left, Claude and Byleth led the rest of the Golden Deer class into the Holy Mausoleum.

Only his peers were surprised to see the small army gathered among the tombs. Claude held great confidence in himself, smirking as he turned to the professor.

"Looks like our guess was spot on. Quite the company we've got here, eh, Teach?"

Byleth sighed. "Let us be quick with this."

"Right." Claude turned to his peers. "Looks like the enemy is going after the casket in the back. Let's finish them before they can get the job done!"

The Golden Deer let out a fierce battle cry, and off everyone went to fight the soldiers scattered around the room. Raphael and Leonie did well to defeat the first three that greeted them in the hall. From there, it was best to avoid the center of the room where the familiar knight dressed in black could be clearly seen. Claude shouted the command to split up, and his Golden Deer followed through.

Claude followed Byleth towards the right, shooting down any enemies who came too close. Pulling the arrow back and releasing, he shot a priest straight through the skull. The man fell onto his back and died before even hitting the ground. There was only the Death Knight and mage to worry about now.

It was the professor, however, who went for the attack. The class watched as he swung his sword, catching the mage and barely digging his blade into the man's abdomen. The victor couldn't be clearer. However...

"You're too late!" hissed the mage. "The seal is broken. You can't- Huh?"

The room fell silent. In the mage's hands was the legendary blade: The Sword of the Creator. Claude stared, though not in awe like his classmates. He narrowed his eyes at the weapon, thinking of how everything began to fall into place after this.

Their skirmish continued, and soon was the blade now wielded by the professor. The sword glowed a bright orange, similar to Thunderbrand, and Claude could see the empty hole in the pommel. The very spot where the sword's crest stone was meant to be. The crest stone that was, in fact, Byleth's "heart".

Byleth struck the mage with the sword, creating a blade stain on the stone steps behind him. Just as the body fell, footsteps echoed through the room. Everyone turned to see Catherine with a few knights by her side.

"Is the intruder here?" she cried, her eyes blowing up wide at the sight of bodies littering the mausoleum. "Oh. Looks like you have this under control."

She turned to one of the knights. "You. Round up any stragglers."

The knight obeyed their orders, going around the room to assure the corpses were, well, corpses. Catherine approached Byleth, congratulating him on guarding the area and leading the class well. They were given permission to leave while she remained to investigate.

While Claude's peers ran towards the dining hall to celebrate, Claude knew it would be wiser to check what came next. And this time, he was bringing the professor with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this!
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter (@gamer_juice_). I don't post a lot of anything other than updates on fanfics and 3AM thoughts so yeah.
> 
> I'm also thinking of making a Modern Ferdibert AU with Ferdie as an aspiring Broadway actor and Hubert as the director's (Edelgard's) right hand or smth. Let me know if ya'll are interested in something like that.


	10. It's Up to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as things finally seem to be under his control, Claude is needed elsewhere.

"As all of you have committed a breach of faith, the archbishop will now pass judgement."

Claude watched from the shadows, the professor to his right, as the priests stood before Rhea and the others. Byleth, too, was silent as he bared witness to the trial.

"Inciting a Kingdom noble to rebel. Unlawful entry. The attempted assassination of the archbishop. An attack on the Holy Mausoleum." Shamir shook her head with a sigh. "It is unnecessary to go on, followers of the Western Church."

"What?" cried one of the priests. "We have nothing to do with the Western Church!"

Seteth's eyes narrowed. "You have already been identified. Please spare us your second-rate theater."

"Dishonoring a holy ceremony is worthy of death for a member of the church," Rhea hissed. "You are well past the hope of redemption. If you have any grace remaining, you will willingly offer your life as atonement for this crime."

A second priest spoke up. "No! This isn't what we were told would happen! We've been deceived!"

"It's no use arguing," Shamir said. "Whatever your excuse, your punishment stands."

Rhea clasped her hands together, head hung almost as if in prayer. "May your souls find peace as they return to the goddess..."

"Wait!" cried the first priest. "Please! The goddess would never forgive you for our execution!"

"Monster!" growled the second. "We know you've already slaughtered many of our fellow brethren like this!"

Rhea ignored their pleas and accusations. That much was clear to Claude when she turned away from them. "This concludes the investigation. Please remove these poor, lost souls from my sight."

A few knights approached and began dragging away the priests, who were still shouting and begging for their lives to be spared. Claude turned to Byleth then, and the professor understood well enough.

* * *

"I suppose that's that," the archer sighed.

"I'm assuming the Western Church isn't actually involved here," replied the professor. "That look in your eyes when we watched the trial says it all."

Claude chuckled. "You're getting a little _too_ good at reading me for my liking, Teach."

"If we are to prevent this war like you wish, I'm afraid I'll have no other choice. Surviving a war isn't easy, and I understand there may be...things you don't wish to discuss."

_Heh. If only you knew the half of it..._

Claude's laugh that followed the professor's words was dry and somber. Hoping to ease the tension in the air, he rested his hands behind his head in a casual stretch. "Fair point," he replied. "But I wouldn't keep something like that from you if we're going to be working as a team on this. You're right in your assumption: someone's using the Western Church as a decoy. A scapegoat, if you will."

"May I make another assumption?"

A smirk played on the archer's lips. "By all means."

Byleth gave a nod as they walked. "The Agarthans, the strange beings you mentioned before, are behind this, aren't they? They used the Western Church to keep the attention of themselves so they may sneak into the Holy Tomb and steal...whatever this is." Byleth's eyes traveled down to the Sword of the Creator that was attached to his hip.

"Very perceptive."

"Then if my assumptions are correct, what are we going to do to stop them? If they are hiding behind the Empire and Western Church, there is no way we can just expose them without solid proof. And to do so would be revealing ourselves to them." Byleth's eyes narrowed. "I don't know about you, but I would like to stay as far out of their sights as possible if what you've told me is true."

Yet another good point. If the Agarthans could turn a literal goddess and her people into powerful weapons, it was best to stay out of their way until they could raise their own army. But that left another hole in their plan. Good thing the professor pointed that out too. Claude was feeling a little lost on that one. Out of all the things the infamous schemer couldn't solve...

"First thing's first: we should get to Edelgard. If we could expose her as the Flame Emperor before she attacks the Holy Tomb, the tide could very well turn in our favor."

Byleth hummed in response, going silent after. Claude continued to walk with him towards the Golden Deer classroom. His head was starting to hurt with all these thoughts swarming his head. Next month Miklan would start causing trouble in Faerghus, and Sylvain will have to witness his brother turning into a demonic beast.

All because he wasn't born with a crest.

Claude had no sympathy for the man. He heard stories from Ingrid about her childhood with Dimitri, Felix, and Sylvain. Simple reminiscing on her part—then again, who wouldn't when two of your childhood friends are dead and one's completely isolated himself—including the well-known tale among the four of the Gautier heir trapped in a well. She claimed Sylvain played it off when he told her, which was very much like him before the war, but to hear his own brother do such a thing was sickening to say the least. It reminded Claude a little too well of his own childhood, and how his parents were neglectful whenever the world decided to screw him over.

At least they never left him to die on purpose.

Whatever happened with Miklan would happen. The archer doubted there was much that could be done in the first place. Little would change if he tried to persuade the man to leave the lance with his father. In fact, it was likely he wouldn't listen at all.

However, there was one thing he could change.

* * *

Just as he predicted, their new mission for the month was to track down Miklan's band of thieves and take back the Lance of Ruin—the heirloom of the Gautier family. Of course, the Blue Lion house displayed a mix of shame, confusion, and regret. Many argued this should've been their mission as it was Sylvain's brother who was acting out. However, the Golden Deer were more than happy to take the situation off their hands. They were likely stressed enough as it was. Especially Dimitri. The man always worried about his people before expressing any concern for himself, and if his sleeping troubles were any indication of his already collapsing mental state, well...

Another major reveal to anyone but Claude occurred. Since Byleth was suddenly able to wield the Sword of the Creator, Rhea had Hanneman examine Byleth's crest again. Sure enough, the Crest of Flames appeared before them. This was nothing new to Claude, but he was thrown off when someone suggested he could be a descendant of Nemesis. He almost let out a laugh at that one.

Then there was...

"Judith?" Claude exclaimed. He almost forgot about her. "What are you doing here?"

Judith gave a playful smirk. "That's Lady Judith to you, boy. I told you, until you're in charge, I expect you to address me with all due respect. Anyway, I'm here to retrieve you. Duke Riegan's condition has taken a turn for the worse."

Oh shit...

"Are you saying the old man's on his death bed?" _Not that it matters_ , Claude thinks. _He won't die for another few months. Still, this might hinder my progress._

"No, it's not that bad," she sighed. "But in the state he's in, he won't be able to participate in the next roundtable conference. He wants you to go in his stead. I volunteered to play the messenger."

 _Fuck me sideways. How could I forget about this?_ "Well, thanks for that." Great. Now how was he supposed to-

Wait a second.

Byleth. Of course!

"Teach," the archer excitedly shouted. "This is Judith. Also known as the Hero of House Daphnel." He then turned to Judith. "If you don't mind, I've got some stuff to talk to Teach about before we head off."

The woman sighed. "Very well, but make it quick. We have to go as soon as possible."

"It won't be long. Promise."

Judith gave a nod to the boy, turning away so as to give him some privacy with the professor. For safety's sake, Claude guided Byleth a little farther from where Judith stood. He leaned in close, hand cupped over his mouth to whisper into the professor's ear.

"Teach, this might take awhile, but while I'm gone see if there's anything you can get out of the Black Eagles. Maybe they know something that'll help."

Byleth nodded. "I'll do what I can," he replied.

"Great," Claude replied, smiling. "Thanks, Teach. Knew I could count on you."

"Boy, we need to go. Are you done yet?" called Judith. Claude nearly jumped out of his skin at her voice. He hadn't spoken to her since the war. It had been so long since he heard her voice. It always comforted him, but now it was going to take some getting used to.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said in reply.

Claude turned to wave a farewell to Byleth, who wished him luck at the conference. The archer followed Judith out of the hall and through the gates of the monastery, and the two made their way towards Alliance territory. Claude knew he would care little for what actually waited for him at the conference and instead focused, when he could, on his plan. He just hoped history would continue to run its course in his absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this was a little shorter than usual, but being in quarantine is kind of messing with me mentally.
> 
> I won't go too much into a rant about it but I feel I'm growing more depressed, and I heard that the governor of my state is preparing to shut everything down. So I'm kind of worried I won't be able to talk to my therapist two days from now which is kind of my lifeline now.
> 
> As anti-social as I am, humans are naturally social creatures and I know I shouldn't isolate myself in times like these. But I just don't have anyone to talk to??? I've only really got two friends I can talk to casually for hours, but I feel awkward around one for personal reasons and the other is just too immature for me to deal with most of the time and rarely takes shit seriously. He also makes a lot of jokes I'm not too comfortable with (nothing offensive, don't worry). There's also my ex but I know how that song and dance is gonna go so that's a definite nope.
> 
> I said I wasn't gonna make this a rant and I did, I'm sorry.
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed! Next up we've got Past/Present Byleth's POV! Ooooo~


	11. When Our Eyes Meet Across a Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth goes to create a diversion for Edelgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon Byleth has social anxiety not even God can stop me

He could go a few weeks without Claude. Surely this was no big deal. Right? Right.

Not like the entire fate of Fodlan was now in his hands.

Haha.

...

Okay, this is bad.

It wasn't even a day after Claude left for the Alliance that Byleth began to worry. He could never figure out how to express his feelings, but that didn't mean he didn't have any. From the moment the archer's request left his lips the professor felt anxious. There was, after all, a reason why he chose the Golden Deer over the other two houses.

The Blue Lions were kind, of course, and Dimitri was as polite as they come. He liked that Felix was so focused on training, that Mercedes acted so motherly, that Ashe seemed eager to learn. Dedue was silent, but that made him good company for someone as socially anxious as the professor. Sylvain's attitude towards women needed some work, but he was a good fighter. Then sweet little Annette who was so chipper, like a little sister.

However, while the overall friendly attitude of the Lions were almost enough to sway him, the Lions were rather...traditional. Sure, he was a professor, but they held him in such high regard. He felt too much like an adult monitoring children despite their mature attitude. It was stressful.

The Black Eagles weren't much of an option either. Edelgard's personality just screamed "get in my way, I dare you", and while Byleth was rarely intimidated in battle it just felt...different. Most of the students were close to his age. Soldiers and thieves were, most of the time, grown men he never had and never will have any connection to. She was a student, one of his students, and it just felt different. The rest of the class weren't much help. Linhardt didn't seem to care for much if it didn't have to do with crests, which made it difficult to converse with him. Hubert was, well, Hubert. Caspar had a great attitude, especially as a fighter, but his enthusiasm was just a bit too much for Byleth at times. Petra, Dorothea, and Bernadetta were otherwise fine. He considered recruiting them into the Deer not long into the year. Bernadetta is already a member of the team, Dorothea needs a little more convincing, and Petra was on her way to transferring.

The Deer were much, much different.

They weren't overly formal like the Lions nor were they as intimidating as the Eagles. Their laid-back attitude made them a perfect fit for him. Lorenz, though narcissistic, was willing to get the job done. Byleth already had a relationship to Leonie, and thus felt at ease around her. Lysithea was surprisingly nice to talk to despite carrying the same aura as Edelgard—perhaps her youth had a part to play in that?—and she was very eager to learn more than just the advanced aspects of her craft. Hilda was a little lazy, and he didn't expect to interact much with her, but her social-butterfly personality just drew him in. Ignatz's artistic talent immediately had Byleth interested, Raphael was a fellow foodie, and he could relate to Marianne's lack of interest in socializing.

Then there was Claude.

Even before the sudden switch, the archer was charming and held a relaxed aura. That was enough to convince Byleth to join the Deer. Claude didn't seem to be the type to easily scrutinize, and he would be lying if he didn't admit his tricks didn't make Byleth laugh once or twice.

But that only made the professor wonder: this Claude was much more tense and mature. Not like the childish and chill student he met just a few months prior. Was the war truly that awful? The way he would look at his peers...

 **"But that would make sense, would it not?"** Sothis sighed. _"_ **War is no minor thing. You have seen your fair share of death and battle. I can hardly imagine how it must have affected the boy."**

Byleth released his own sigh, his eyes darting towards the Black Eagle classroom. He had yet to see Edelgard leave, meanwhile her peers all surged out and headed towards the dining hall. Whatever it was Claude witnessed, Byleth would make it his mission to ensure such a thing never happened again.

He just needed to start with Edelgard.

The professor took a deep breath to prepare himself before strolling towards the open doors of the classroom. He turned the corner, and there she was. In her house leader uniform, the red cape falling off her shoulder, stood Edelgard. The woman who would bring hell to Fodlan if Claude's word was true. His own student.

The girl turned on her heel, as if she could sense Byleth's presence standing at the door. Though the surprise in her eyes when they were face-to-face said otherwise.

"Ah, Professor. What a pleasant surprise. Did you need something?"

Byleth's reaction was delayed. His eyes suddenly caught sight of the other person in the room. No, not just Hubert. He was always following Edelgard save for the tasks he was sent to complete. His mask and long, pale hair made it easy to recognize him even in a crowded room.

Professor Jeritza. Or, according to Claude, the mounted knight they saw in the Mausoleum: The Death Knight.

Jeritza was strangely quiet compared to everyone else at the monastery, and Byleth's own silence almost made him feel like kin. The archer never said much about the knight other than his tragic death during the war and his relation to Mercedes. As anxious as the professor was, his curiosity simply overpowered any fear he had of the man.

 **"Byleth!"** Sothis shouted.

Oh. Right. Edelgard.

"Ah. My apologies," he addressed the princess. "I was wondering if you would like to join me for tea."

Edelgard's skepticism didn't go unnoticed. "Tea? Is there a special occasion?"

Byleth shook his head. "My time is often occupied instructing the Golden Deer, but I would like to know more about each student in the monastery. I hope you don't mind."

The princess seemed to ponder off it. All the meanwhile, Byleth kept his eye on Hubert and Jeritza. They were a potential threat, though it didn't look like they could see through his lie. Not yet, anyway.

After a moment, Edelgard's surprised expression softens as she smiles. "Very well. If that's what you're after, I'd be happy to entertain you."

Relief washed over the professor and goddess. The former could hear Sothis muttering a small "thank goodness" before falling silent again. Byleth then feigned his joy at her acceptance.

"Perfect. Please meet me at the gazebo before dinner. I'm afraid there is too much paperwork for me to complete for us to share this time together..."

"Of course. I shall meet you then, my teacher." The girl then turned to her vassal. "Hubert, come. We should prepare for our own mission this month."

Hubert gave a bow. "Yes, Lady Edelgard."

The professor watched as the two students left, a sigh escaping his lips once more once they were out of hearing distance. He turned around again to see Jeritza still standing there, staring at him. Talk about awkward.

Suddenly feeling bold, Byleth offered a smile to him. "If you'd like, perhaps we could have tea as well someday."

A hum was the only reaction he received. No words, no gestures. The man's face was as still as stone. Just who was this guy?

Well, it did not matter much anymore. Not at this moment. Byleth had plenty of time to figure that mystery out. At least until Flayn would be kidnapped, and the man would be forced to stay clear of the monastery until the war came.

"Well, I wish you luck with things. Farewell."

When not even that got a response, Sothis couldn't help but roll her eyes. **"How smooth,"** she snickered.

Byleth's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He would retort at another time. For now, he had to retreat from the awkward tension in the air. The professor turned on his heel to leave the classroom.

"...Wait." Byleth's were suddenly glued to the floor. Jeritza's voice was deep, and it made his cheeks burn. "I am not one for tea. But a fight..."

Silence filled the room again. Byleth looked back at Jeritza, his head now hung and eyes gazing at the floor beneath them. How cute...

Wait. Not cute! Not cute! He's the enemy!

Still, Byleth could not stop the smile from returning. "If that works for you, then very well. A spar sounds fun."

Jeritza's head slowly lifted itself, his eyes now meeting Byleth's from behind the mask. A very faint sense of joy resided in them. The other professor gave a nod, but said not a word.

Byleth nodded in return, a sign of acknowledgement and as a parting, before leaving the classroom. He walked back down the brick path that led to the other rooms of the academy until he reached that of his Deer.

For the entire walk back, the smile would not leave the professor's expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of going back and updating the titles of the chapters now that I'm tired enough to convince myself it's a good idea.


	12. Tea Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth gets some time alone with Edelgard, but doesn't quite learn what he expected to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: homophobia

The gazebo was surprisingly empty —not that Byleth was complaining, oh no—and the only living things in sight were small critters running to and fro around the monastery. A dog or two chasing a squirrel, or a cat licking its paws on one of the nearby crates next to the stone path just a few feet away.

Well, there was also Byleth and Edelgard, of course.

The professor invited the student to take a seat. A basket of treats laying on the table was the first thing that was noted as he poured them each a cup. Edelgard took hers delicately, minding the heat emitting from the porcelain. She held the cup to her lips inhaling the scent and looked up in pleasant surprise.

“Bergamont. My favorite.” She smiled. “How did you know?”

Byleth’s expression did not change. Normally, he would have smiled in return at such a face from one of his students. But given the circumstances…

“I make it my business to know what my students favor and what they dislike,” he replied. “After all, I am not just your professor. I also hope to get to know each of you beyond your status as both nobility and a student.” Then, as he sat to take his own cup into hand, he added, “It also helps forge our bonds so we can fight better on the battlefield.”

Edelgard hummed. “I suppose that makes sense. It builds a sense of trust in one another. That way you know you can rely on your allies in battle when you need them most.”

Strange how much she understood. Though, as the future Adrestian emperor, having such knowledge made sense. This brought a small grin to Byleth’s face. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Of course. Now then-” Edelgard set her cup aside. “-did you have a specific goal in mind?”

He was midway through taking a sip of the tea he prepared when Byleth froze, his body tensing up. Crap, did she…? No, there was no way she could know.

“What do you mean?”

“I understand you wanted to get to know me better. That’s what you said, correct?”

A nod followed. “Yes. That’s correct.”

“Well, I’m asking how much you want to know about me. Do you have a specific goal in that aspect?”

Hearing this made Byleth relax again. Thank Sothis he never knew how to express his emotions clearly.

“No, not really,” he replied. “Just whatever you are comfortable sharing.” Then, from there, he could gather evidence with some follow-up questions.

The professor took his first sip as Edelgard fell quiet. However, when he placed the cup back onto the table, he noticed something was...off. Something was missing. But what could it be?

…

Ah. Of course.

“Where is Hubert?” he asked.

Edelgard, who too seemed to be enjoying her tea, did not flinch at the question. “I sent him off to do some errands around the monastery. Nothing specifically for me. Just to see if the other Black Eagles needed any help. Likely he and Ferdinand are fighting in the stables at the moment.”

**“She’s lying.”** Byleth sighed.

_ Sothis, not now. _

**“But I promise you, she is. The stables are right behind us, we would hear them if that was the case,”** the goddess shouted.  **“And we saw the rest of her class in the dining hall, and Hubert was nowhere to be seen!”**

Byleth dawned on the thought, digging into his memories.

That’s right, actually. Most of the Black Eagles were in the dining hall chatting with one another. He overheard Caspar and Linhardt’s plans for a sleepover in the latter’s dorm room, and Petra was going to train in the training grounds before bed. Dorothea was going to head immediately to her room if what he heard was correct, and Ferdinand was already at the stables as of this moment.

But there wasn’t a trace of Hubert anywhere near them, nor did he hear about his assistance in any of those activities.

_ Claude was fucking right. _

**“I told you! They’re up to something. But what could it be? Hm...”**

“Um, professor?”

Shit, he was too quiet again.

“Ah, my apologies. I was just-” Ugh, what should he say? “-uh, spacing out. Imaging Hubert trying to help Ferdinand with horses must’ve made me doze off.”

Edelgard chuckled warmly. “Yes, well, while they appear to be sworn enemies, I know they get along quite well.”

Byleth quirked a brow. “Do they?”

“...Okay, that’s not entirely true, but I know if they put their minds to it they won’t rip each other’s throats out long enough to come to a consensus if required.”

“That sounds more believable.”

The princess hummed a small agreement. “Anyway. So, my teacher, what shall we talk about first?”

Talk. Right. That’s what he was there for.

Byleth was used to this sort of pressure. As much as he hated socializing, he did enjoy these quaint little tea times with his students. He would mostly do it for their birthdays, or if they had something they wanted to talk about—an interest in a certain skill or his life before the monastery—and he would happily pick any topic he knew they’d like if they had nothing else to say.

But with Edelgard…

The professor held his thumb to his chin, glancing down at the table in concentration until his eyes lit up with an idea.

“I could tell you about my childhood,” he suggested. “I know many students at the academy are curious about that.”

“Actually, now that you mention it, I was wondering about that myself.” Excellent. The right subject. “What was it like to grow up around mercenaries?”

Byleth took a sip of tea. “What do you think it was like?”

Edelgard leaned her chin on her fist. “Well, from what I’ve heard, it’s a lot of traveling and going from town to town. There are...rumors of mercenaries being nothing more than a band of misfits wanting to make quick money, but I hardly believe in such things. It’s a job like any other.”

The other nodded. “Good. Seems you’ve done your research,” he said.

“I just don’t think mercenaries are that simple.”

“But they are, and yet they’re not.” Byleth set his cup down again. “At least, it’s that way with my father’s men. They’re simple in that they enjoy the little things—a soft bed, a warm meal, good ale to drink—but they’re much more complex than misfits who kill for gold.”

“When did you first do it?”

“Hm?”

Edelgard’s eyes were focused then, like a beast staring down at its prey. They were analysing, waiting for the right words to come to her before she spoke another word. It made Byleth uneasy. But he could not afford to back down from a simple stare.

“When did you first kill a person?”

Without blinking an eye he replied, “I was 14. I think. Too young to be an adult, but too old to be a small child anymore. There was a raid in the village we were staying in—bandits—and my father decided to protect the town as payment for tending to our needs.”

Yes. He couldn’t remember his age well, but he remembered that day very clearly. It was a dark night, and it happened so suddenly. There was chaos everywhere. A few of the houses were on fire, people screaming as they ran to safety. Windows were smashed, women screamed in terror. Nothing but chaos.

“Their leader had my father pinned to the dirt, an axe at his throat. I grabbed a sword off one of the dead bandits, ran at him, and sliced into his back. He turned to me, lifted the axe above my head, but I stabbed him in the throat before he could do a thing.”

This time, it was Byleth who stared. His eyes were glued to the stern expression of the princess. She didn’t look at him in disgust, or fear. But rather...understanding. As if she once had to commit such an act herself.

“My eyes did not change at any point that night. Not even after I killed him, and helped finish off his men. The survivors were the ones who spread the word about ‘The Ashen Demon’.”

“And that’s where you got your nickname.”

He nodded. “Exactly.”

“And… There is another rumor I’ve heard about mercenaries.”

Byleth remained silent, signaling for her to continue. A blush came to the princess’s face. But why? What could-

“What are your experiences with...women?”

Huh?

...Oh.

OH.

“Um…” Great, now he was blushing. “What do you mean by that?”

“W-Well, it’s just that… Um… I-I’ve heard mercenaries sometimes tend to make...visits to ladies of the night, or sleep with barmaids during celebrations.” Her face was now downcast, though he could still notice the red hue dusting her cheeks. “I understand it’s a rather inappropriate topic to discuss with you, but, um, I just…”

A silence fell between them, broken only by Byleth’s sigh a few moments later.

“No. I haven’t had experience with women. Not like that,” he replied. “Some of my father’s men, yes. Though many of them already had families before becoming mercenaries and they were loyal to their partners.”

“Oh. Well, in that case-”

“However, that isn’t to say I don’t understand attraction. I’ve had experience, but not with any women.”

Edelgard’s face twisted into confusion until, a couple seconds later, it exploded into surprise. “Oh. So you mean you’re…”

“Gay. I’m gay, Edelgard.” The professor crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back into his seat. “I’m assuming that’s what you wanted to know.”

“Um… Kind of, in a sense. It’s just…” Her eyes glanced away for a moment. “Nevermind. Just know I don’t judge you, my teacher. I’m sure whoever manages to capture your heart is a lucky man indeed. Though I know not many, especially those of noble status, would agree to the notion.”

“Why would you say that?”

As far as Byleth knew, half of the monastery’s students held some sort of attraction to the same sex. Some made it more obvious than others—like Felix and Sylvain, and it was clear Dorothea mostly prefered men for the sake of preserving her needs rather than romance.

Edelgard answered, “In most regions of the Empire, moreso the northern territories, homosexuality is either looked down upon or outright illegal. Though it’s not as heavily enforced as it is in the Kingdom…”

Byleth thought for a moment. “I see. That is rather unfortunate.”

“Indeed. But I intend to change such things,” she replied. “Once I am emperor, a lot will change. Many ideals that I and my fellow classmates have grown up with will be discarded and fade into history. The nobility as it stands is corrupt, and I intend to do away with the current system in favor of a fairer one—one in which people’s status are determined by merit rather than birthright or by bearing a crest.”

Byleth was, in a way, stunned by such a passionate response. It threw him off and suddenly he needed time to process what the princess just revealed to him.

**“So that is her plan.”** Thankfully he still had Sothis.  **“She wishes to reinvent the world by conquering it, if the boy’s words are true. And judging from what this girl has told us I do believe his future is what lies ahead.”**

Sothis sighed.  **“But to start a war over such ideals? Is such a future truly worth destroying lives for?”**

Byleth had to agree with that. Her motives were fair. Who wouldn’t want a world much more equal than what seemed to exist under Fodlan’s current system—likely placed upon the land by the church, judging by their power—and to end the influence of crests that did more harm than good? But her method was more than a little questionable.

“So I’m assuming much of what you grew up to believe you no longer agree with,” he asked.

Edelgard nodded. “Yes. The current system under the church is a little more than corrupt, wouldn’t you say? Considering your house’s mission to stop the eldest child of the Margrave, I’d say it would be a little obvious just how crests can disrupt one’s life.”

“Did you ever experience such a thing?”

He hadn’t meant to ask it. Before he could consider them, the words just flew right out of his mouth. But from the look on Edelgard’s face, she wasn’t expecting the question either.

“...Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “My apologies. What I meant to ask was if you’ve had any personal experience around your crest? Nothing to the extreme like Miklan…”

“O-Oh.” Edelgard folded her hands on the table, her fingers intertwining with one another. “I um…” Her eyes turned away, her gaze falling to the grass hedge across the small field where the gazebo stood. “I actually can’t recall. Despite being born as the ninth child of my father, I was only chosen as the heir because my other siblings suddenly went mad or fell to illness. I… Please, excuse me.”

Byleth watched as Edelgard suddenly shot up, bowed in respect to her professor, and thanked him for the tea before scurrying off, mumbling something about finding Hubert. Perhaps he was a little too personal with that question…

**“I agree. She looked pained to talk about her family. I wonder what could have happened for them to have met such a fate?”**

Well, it didn’t matter now. Byleth got what information he could. Once Claude returned, he’d relay it and they could rework their plan if needed.

Now it was only a matter of waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've recently been binge watching Castlevania and HOLY FUCK can Trevor, Alucard, and Sypha just...live in a nice little cottage in the woods...being all domestic and shit...that'd be so fucking cute... And the two vampire lesbians....
> 
> I just really love this show, okay?


	13. Tower of Black Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude returns to the monastery and the Golden Deer head out to fight Miklan in Faerghus territory. Upon their return, it was time to put his mini plan into work.

By the time Claude returned, the rest of the Golden Deer were already preparing to head into Kingdom territory. Leonie was apparently working on her bow and lance skills while helping Lorenz in the stables for the month. The two had, according to their professor, gotten into an argument in the training hall and ended up breaking some of the equipment. Thus, the punishment was handed to them. Though Claude had to say it was more of a punishment for Lorenz than Leonie, who was used to taking care of the animals every other month and actually quite enjoyed it.

Ignatz was also working on his bow skills as well as learning how to use a sword. Byleth claimed he wanted to take the certification exam for assassin units a little while after the archer departed for Derdriu. Not that Claude was complaining. The guy chose the same path in his own world, and he was one of the greatest soldiers in the entire army—besides Hilda and Raphael, of course—and led his battalions to easy victories with his leadership and skill.

Such a shame he…

 _No. Bad Claude. No time for bad thoughts._ He had to focus on the task at hand.

After two weeks of training, studying, chores, and classes, the Golden Deer were making their merry way out of the comfort of the monastery and up north towards the chilly territory known as Faerghus. They made it all the way to Conand Tower where, inside, Miklan waited with the Lance of Ruin and his gang of bandits.

The tower was in the middle of a forest, and the rain pouring down on them did nothing to help Claude in the already freezing weather of the country. Claude hated the cold. Even worse, he hated when it was cold _and_ raining. Just his luck, huh?

The archer gazed up at the tower just as a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, thunder following it. “Say, Teach,” he called out to Byleth. “This is the tower. Pretty _towering_ , isn’t it.”

Byleth only groaned at the pun. “Don’t tell me you’ve become like Alois during the war.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” A playful wink followed, and the professor could only pretend to ignore the archer’s existence.

When he first saw the fortress, Claude had to admit: it was intimidating. With bulking, gray clouds hovering above, the tower’s peak covered in a thick fog, and the rain pouring around them, it almost looked like they were running straight into some kind of death trap.

Considering what would happen during the battle, Claude wondered if that was exactly what it was.

Then, suddenly, a voice broke through the archer’s thoughts, “Several hundred years ago, this was an important stronghold for diffusing invasions from the north. Back then, this tower was built for both surveillance and defense. It will be difficult to seize it.”

Claude turned his head to see the armored knight known as Gilbert standing with him and the professor. He didn’t remember much about the man. Only that he was on the verge of death at Gronder and one of the few from Dimitri’s forces to survive. He was also Annette’s father, though not the best parent in the world according to several sources. He didn’t know all the details, obviously, but just enough to know the two weren’t as close as they seemed. Not too surprising to Claude, but, then again, he wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with his own family. Especially his brothers.

Claude suddenly wondered how they were doing. At this time, he hadn’t spoken to them since he left for Fodlan. Of course he couldn’t send messengers to Almyra. The whole point of his mission, of keeping his secrets, was to avoid suspicion. If people found out where he was from, the Alliance would turn on him, and there goes any chance he had at uniting all of Fodlan and its neighbors.

He had to make a name for himself first. He’d survive the war, lead Fodlan through its horrors, and return home to take his rightful place and finish what he started.

Before he could do any of that, however, he had a tower to climb.

* * *

_Note to self: you hate stairs._

Claude remembered being tall enough to reach the foggy clouds above, but he didn’t remember the amount of stairs there were in the place. At this rate, he’d be too exhausted to battle any bandits. Then again, they could’ve been in the rain.

The Golden Deer marched through until they reached the highest platform in the tower. Gilbert called a warning. The enemy was right in front of them. In the very center of the room was Miklan, he recalled, and they had many reinforcements to go through until they could reach him.

Three bandits charged right for them. The professor took the lead, Claude in tow, and slashed at the closest thief. The archer took to shooting an arrow straight into another’s shoulder, but they wouldn’t relent. Letting out a battle cry, they raised their rusted axe above their head to strike the Alliance heir down.

However, a flash of pink and white surged forward directly in front of Claude. The archer watched in surprise as Hilda gave a shout before cutting through the bandit. The thief gave a scream and collapsed onto the cold floor of the tower.

Now that was close…

“Claude, you jerk!” The archer jolted. He hadn’t expected to hear her scream. “You made me do actual work!”

Ah. There she was: the Hilda everyone knew and loved. Claude honestly didn’t think much of it at first, but there was something different about the younger version of his right hand. It was barely there and one would almost miss it if they dared to blink an eye, but this Hilda was still ever so lazy in battle though still highly energetic in her own right.

His Hilda’s eyes looked as tired as the others’. His mind put forth an image of her face next to that of the Hilda before him, and the comparison was clear: the younger Goneril sibling was struggling to keep her light. He only realized it sometime after the war when the whole of the ex-Alliance was swooning over a pregnant Marianne and her doting husband.

That day made it clear there was a whole other reason why she was rude to Lorenz, one entirely different from the rest of their army.

Ah, but now wasn’t the time for that. Huh. He wondered how many times he’s said that to himself…

Claude charged ahead with Byleth and the rest of the Deer, Gilbert lingering behind to take care of any reinforcements. The professor ordered Lysithea and Leonie to stay behind, take out anyone who came up the northern staircase, while everyone fought with the sudden wave of bandits guarding Miklan.

The archer and his teacher pushed through, allowing their teammates to take care of the man’s underlings. Now, at the highest peak on the tower, they came face-to-face with him.

“So, you think you can take the lance from me, huh?” He gave a smirk to the pair, the lance wriggling like bony fingers. Just looking at it filled Claude with disgust. “I’ll kill you… I’ll kill every last one of you!”

Miklan let out a fierce cry as he charged forward, making a beeline for the professor. Claude made a move to get as far from the rogue as possible while Byleth attempted to fight him off at close range. The archer reached into his quiver and pulled back his bowstring. With green eyes focused, he aimed for the weak points in Miklan’s armor. His stone arrowheads would do little damage if he just shot all willy nilly, assuming they did any damage at all.

Thankfully, the professor was catching the upper hand. Now to just…

Claude allowed his arrow to fly, and his aim stayed true. Miklan let out a cry as the arrow whizzed along his neck creating a scar at least an inch deep. He whirled around, teeth bared and eyes narrowed.

“You little fucking shit!”

_Good. Now, Teach!_

If Claude didn’t know better, he’d say the professor read his mind. Byleth took the Sword of the Creator in hand, the weapon glowing a bright orange for a moment, and took the chance to strike Miklan across the chest.

The metal armor did little to protect against the power of the sword, and Miklan stumbled back in surprise. His hand flew to his chest as he let out a hiss. The ginger looked down and noticed the large gash that proved his inevitable defeat. He looked back up at Byleth and chuckled.

“Not bad for your kind… A bunch of spoiled rotten children.”

Wait.

Oh no.

Claude immediately looked to the lance in Miklan’s hands, noticing its orange glow as the Crest Stone within suddenly burst into a bright red hue. A goopy substance sprawled from it and began to absorb Miklan’s arm whole.

The heir let out a grunt and glanced at the weapon. Just as before, he tried, though in vain, to tear the substance away from his body. He let out a cry as it continued to consume his whole being. His men stand in shock and fear as they watch their leader disappear into the goop before their very eyes before running off.

Claude raced towards Byleth, bow prepared as he shouted, “Get away! Don’t stand too close!”

Miklan’s body grows until he’s reached full size. Only then does the substance disappear, revealing a demonic beast that rises onto its hind legs and lets out a fierce cry.

“What is that thing?”

“Let’s get out of here!”

“But we can’t leave without the lance!”

“Guys!” Claude shouted to his Deer. “Everything’s gonna be just fine! Just follow mine and Teach’s orders, and we can win this!”

“But Miklan’s still in there!” Ignatz shouted.

“That thing _is_ Miklan! And there’s nothing we can do for him now but put him out of his misery.” Goddess knows how many times such a task fell on to their shoulders… “Let’s hurry and finish this thing!”

At first, no one says a word, until Rapahel—the ever positive Raphael—yells with confidence, “I’m with ya Claude! Let’s get this over with!”

“Ugh. Do we have to? I don’t want to get all sweaty…”

“Um… I won’t be of much use, but I’ll support you however I can.”

“Yeah! I owe it to Jeralt to show off my skill, so let’s hurry up and beat this thing!”

One by one, the Golden Deer let out a cheer. Claude finds himself smiling, though he can’t seem to know why, and he turns to the professor. Byleth gives a nod to him, and the two look back ahead to the beast before them.

“Golden Deer, to victory!”

“YEAH!”

* * *

To hear the broken cry of the beast—no, of Miklan—was not something Claude expected to keep him on edge during their walk back to the monastery. After tearing the lance from Miklan’s corpse no one dared to touch the sacred weapon, too afraid they, too, may turn into a demonic beast. The professor was the only one of them all brave enough to even brush his fingers against it. All watched with bated breaths as Byleth held the lance, and when nothing occurred the tension from their selves were released in a spiritually unified sigh of relief.

Now Claude only had one thing left to do.

Upon their return to Garreg Mach, Byleth was immediately summoned to the audience chamber to speak with Rhea. The professor told Claude and the others to stay behind, but the archer refused to sit idly by once again.

Claude made a dash for the Blue Lions classroom, elated to see Sylvain standing there.

He called out to the knight, “Hey, Sylvain! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

When the ginger turned around, the image of the broken Margrave flashed through Claude’s mind. News of his brother’s death—and, more importantly, transformation—must have quickly spread. There was only one other time he had ever seen such a look on Sylvain’s face, and, once there, that expression never disappeared.

Pushing the thought away, Claude approached him. “Look, I know this isn’t the best time right now, but you should follow me.”

“What the hell are you up to?” Ah, Felix, ever the grouchy one. “This better not be another scheme, Riegan.”

Claude feigned hurt. “What? Me? I would never.” Ignoring the double scowl, the archer turned back to Sylvain. “Seriously, though, I think you would want to be here for this.”

He, of course, gave Claude a rather skeptical look before sighing in defeat. “Alright. Lead the way, I guess.”

He smiled in turn, energetically guiding Sylvain out of the classroom and—to the ginger, unknowingly—towards the audience chamber. He explained some of his plan to the Gautier heir on the way only because time was of the essence. If he didn’t hurry, Byleth would willingly hand the lance over to Rhea without a single question. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

He needed Sylvain’s trust.

When the pair arrived, Claude ensured they stayed hidden behind one of the many pillars in the room. The guards all left with only Seteth, Rhea, and Byleth remaining. As the archbishop and professor spoke of what happened to Miklan, Claude could sense Sylvain’s body tense beside him.

 _Divine punishment my fucking ass_ , he hissed. He knew well Sylvain must have at least felt the same. _Just tell the damn truth, Rhea. Maybe then we could avoid this whole mess of a war._

Did he truly think if Rhea spoke out sooner that Edelgard’s war would end before it even began? No, not really, but he had been so sick of her secrets and lies during their time leading up to Nemesis’s attack that those feelings must have transcended even time. Just _looking_ at the woman pissed him off. Not for anything she has done, no, for that was a whole other can of worms to open, but rather because of everything she _hadn’t_ done.

Not telling the truth behind Byleth’s ability to wield the Sword. Not sending the Knights on secret missions to uncover the whereabouts of the Agarthans. Not saying anything about how the Relics, the “gifts given by the Goddess”, were actually the corpses of her _own fucking race_.

All of it just really made him want to fucking-

“-will formally return the lance to House Gautier. If you would...”

Now was his chance!

“Wait just a sec!”

All heads turned to Claude, Rhea’s especially boring into his very soul as their eyes met, and the archbishop asked, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Wouldn’t it make sense for Sylvain to just have it?” he asked. “I mean, the guy’s already gonna have it in the next year, so might as well, right? Plus, after all the trouble he’s gone through for the thing why not just let him take it?”

Claude glanced over his shoulder towards the younger Gautier who, in response, jumped at the chance and raced across the room.

“Lady Rhea, I’m overjoyed and beyond grateful to you for recovering the Relic of my family, House Gautier. I’m sure my father would approve of me wielding it—he’d probably think I’m finally taking what fate’s handed to me—so may I have that lance?”

An eerie silence fell over the chamber. For a moment no one made a sound or move. That was, until their beloved teacher gave a firm nod of his head.

“I believe Sylvain has earned it,” he said. “If anything, he could join my class so I may keep a closer eye on him.” He turned back to Sylvain. “Sound fair?”

Sylvain gave a smile. “Yeah, I think I’d be pretty okay with that.”

Everyone looked to Rhea now. Her word was final, and Claude could only pray that his plan had worked.

It must have, because no sooner did the archbishop sigh and ask, “As the next head of House Gautier, do you swear that you will never cause such a deplorable incident to transpire?”

“On my family’s name...and on my brother’s life, I swear it.”

Rhea seemed pleased by that answer. “Very well. However, I have one condition. You must never allow another to wield this lance. Your brother clearly demonstrated what fate awaits those who break that restriction.”

It took everything within Claude to hold himself back from snapping at her. This wasn’t the work of fate and she knew that damn well better than anyone. He had to get out of this place before her very presence made him lose his mind.

When the three of them were in the clear to leave, Sylvain thanked Byleth and Claude for their help before giving a not-so-subtle remark towards the archer for his genius. Man, what a horn dog. The two, in turn, said their goodbyes, and Byleth wished him luck until they would meet again in class. The Gautier heir then rushed off with the lance in his grasp.

Claude was forced to ignore its eerie glow as he and Byleth made their way to the library.

Once they were inside the room, they took to hiding away in a remote corner of the establishment, far from the prying eyes and ears of other visitors.

“Tell me, Claude,” the professor asked, “is what happened to Miklan really ‘fate’ as Rhea claims?”

Claude scoffed. “It’s all bullshit, Teach. The Relics were never even gifts from the Goddess. They were-”

“Pardon, did I hear you two say something about the Heroes’ Relics?”

Claude swore he jumped at least three feet into the air. His eyes zipped to his left where Tomas stood, hunched over and leaning on his cane for support.

Quite the actor he was, wasn’t he?

“We were just talking about the Relics. I have never heard of them before coming to the monastery and was only curious.” _Good one Teach._

“Stories of misfortune have followed the Heroes’ Relics since ancient times,” the librarian replied. “The story goes that Nemesis was corrupted by evil because of the Sword of the Creator. Other Heroes also lost themselves by continuing to use the Relics...transforming into Black Beasts with twisted souls. There used to be a great many records regarding the dark history of the Relics.”

_Yeah, and real funny how you’re the only one aware of their existence. Guess I should’ve figured that was suspicious of you..._

“Anyway, I am sure I have bored you by now with these stories. But I suggest you stop seeking answers before the knights notice. Please, excuse me.”

Tomas excused himself, leaving Claude and Byleth alone once more. The archer nodded to his professor. A sign saying _“It is no longer safe to talk here”_. Byleth took the hint, and the two made their way out of the library.

On their way, he noticed Edelgard sitting and reading a book. He couldn’t recognize the title. His eyes were too focused on her own gaze: hard, cold, and distrustful of the boy’s very existence.

 _I suppose you and I are now one in the same, Edelgard_ , he thought bitterly. _This isn’t just about my heritage now._ _The entire fate of Fodlan, perhaps the world if you succeed, relies on one of us dying by the other’s hand._

A smirk came to the archer’s face. _I wonder which of us will fall first._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since being quarantined I've watched Tiger King and caught up with Castlevania, and I've been watching Death Note for the first time (L didn't deserve this-) so that's a plus.
> 
> Sorry this took so long to come out! Work and school and preparing for college in the middle of this mess just drains ya. Let me know what you guys think!


	14. Stolen Moments Under the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude finds Dimitri in the library late at night. Meanwhile, Byleth must come to terms with what's happened and consider what is best for Fodlan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly angst and I refuse to apologize for that. But, hey, there's a little fluff too! And it's over 3000 words! So have fun with that!

Just as he suspected, news of Flayn’s disappearance spread like wildfire around the monastery. The professor was already speaking to Seteth and Rhea regarding their next move. The Deer were already made aware that, with Byleth as their professor, they were in charge of the investigation and finding Flayn.

Claude knew very well who was holding Flayn hostage and where to find him. However, he couldn’t just approach the Death Knight without getting his head cut off. There had to be another way of doing things...

The archer couldn’t help but sigh as he went for his daily—or should he say nightly—visit to the monastery’s library. The sun had set hours ago and he waited for everyone else to clear the halls and return to their rooms before deciding to sneak out. He didn’t need any more secrets. He already knew what the church was hiding, and he was afraid of what else he would discover if he dove in too deep.

Ha. Imagine that. The great Claude, master of schemes and uncovering confidential information, feeling sick of secrets out of all things.

He really has changed.

Claude almost chuckled at the thought—almost—when something peculiar caught his eye.

_Was that...candlelight?_

Someone was in the library? At this hour? Who could it...?

“Claude?”

_Oh, shit._

“Hey, Your Highness.” Claude gave a casual smile to the prince. “Never imagined you’d be up this late studying.”

Dimitri let out a nervous laugh. “You could say that. I was actually doing some research, but I must’ve lost track of time.”

“Yeah. This place could use some windows,” the archer joked. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was so interesting that it kept you here this long?”

The prince looked hesitant as his eyes glanced at the blue book in his grasp. “Well, since you’ve asked, I’ve been reading this and found something...strange within.”

Strange? “Uh, strange how?”

“I’ll tell you only if you keep it a secret between us.”

Sapphire met emerald, and for the first time ever Claude saw an unfamiliar look in the prince’s eyes. Determination, perhaps? Confidence? Well, whatever it was, it burned bright in those swirling orbs of blue, and Claude had gotten so lost in them he didn’t notice he was staring.

He looked away, eyes darting to anything other than those of the prince, as he replied, “Sure thing. My lips are sealed, your princeliness.”

Dimitri sighed—likely in relief—before opening the book to a specific page and handing it to Claude. The archer took it and immediately was drawn to the names displayed on the pages.

“These are all noble houses that donated money to the Church,” he said. “Uh, no offense, but I don’t see how this has anything to do with what’s going on right now.”

“I’m well aware. This was more of a...personal assignment, if you will.” Dimitri leaned closer, pointing to a name. “Do you recognize this name?”

Claude glanced at it. “‘Lord Arundel’. That’s a noble from the Empire, right?”

Dimitri nodded. “Yes. Take a look at his record.” The prince continued on, his finger sliding across the page and over the sums under the nobleman’s name. “He’s donated quite a bit every single year. All except for 1174. After that, he just...stopped.”

That was kind of weird. “Yeah, I can see how that’d look off, but maybe the guy just died. Or lost too much to donate anymore.”

All bullshit, of course. Claude remembered well who Lord Arundel was. He was Edelgard’s uncle and one of the Agarthans. He almost set siege to Derdriu when their army made their way to free Faerghus from Cornelia’s hold. Were it not for Nader and the professor, and Claude’s quick thinking, the city would have been laid to waste and the Empire would have control over the Alliance.

Just remembering the smug look on that man’s face was making Claude boil with rage. The audacity he had to look at the Kingdom army and mock the death of their prince—their _king_ —angered the archer beyond all reason. He did not regret charging headfirst into battle, did not regret the slaughter of that bastard’s men, and certainly did not regret leaving the man to bleed out, an arrow pierced right through his throat, and die in the streets of the enemy’s city. If anything, Claude believed he deserved a worser fate for all he had done.

But that was a far off memory. Something too distant in the past for him to focus on now. Not with a brighter future for Fodlan right there in front of him. He’d make sure Arundel would pay for his crimes against Fodlan—against his niece and Dimitri—even if he had to die for it. But that would be then, and this had to be now.

Claude returned his focus to the prince’s gaze, those eyes of baby blue glued to the page of the book as they studied it. The prince’s voice broke through his thoughts and returned him to reality.

“No. I know Arundel is still alive,” he said. “But whether or not he’s still financially well, I cannot say. I’ll need to do more research before I can make any conclusions.”

Huh. He was really invested in this, wasn’t he?

“Well, if that’s the case, I wish you luck Your Highness,” the archer said. “Let me know if you need any assistance, and if you figure it out I’d love to hear all about it. And don’t worry-” He gave the prince a wink. “-your secret is safe with me.”

Dimitri looked to him again, a smile on his face as he nodded. “Ah. Of course. You have my gratitude, Claude. But I do wish you’d call me by name.”

Claude almost let out a laugh. “What? Not too keen for titles, are you?”

He sighed. “I realize I am the future king of Faerghus, but for now I’m a student just like anyone else at the academy.” Suddenly, the smile he wore turned sour. “I know it must sound silly, but I had hoped that fact would... Ah, forget it.”

“Wait, wait, no. Hold up a second.” Claude’s curiosity peaked, and he refused to be left in the dark. Especially about this. “Come on, now you’ve got to tell me. I swear, even if it is a little silly, I won’t make fun of ya for it.”

Dimitri looked at him. He was hesitating again. “Truly?”

“I swear on my Crest.” Claude made a crossing motion over his heart, a sign of his swear to keep his end of the deal. “Now come on, out with it.”

“Well, if you say so...” Dimitri closed the book and placed it on one of the tables in the library. He leaned against the surface with his arms holding his weight behind him. His eyes were glued to the floor and his head hung in embarrassment. “I was hoping that if everyone saw me as just another student, then maybe there wouldn’t be so much...distance between them and myself. I’m put on such a pedestal because of my birthright that I don’t feel I can connect with others as easily as everyone else can. Like I said, it’s rather silly, so just forget I-”

Claude was crazy for a number of things. He grew plants that were quite toxic in the greenhouse for the sake of his experiments, he’s used both himself and others to test said experiments, he’s come up with schemes that could have cost people their lives had they not worked out as he planned. But none of that—none of it—could amount to how crazy he seemed when he threw himself at Dimitri.

It wasn’t an overdramatic thing. He wasn’t sobbing in the other’s arms or clinging to him like his life depended on it. But the sheer force still threw the prince and the archer back, nearly knocking over the table in the silent library, and the two were left surprised at such an action. Claude hadn’t even realized what he had done until he heard Dimitri’s voice call to him, asking if he was alright, if anything he said had upset him. But he didn’t pull away either. The mixture of emotions he felt in that moment were overwhelming, and he found himself glued in this position. All he could do was play it off.

“It’s not silly,” he said. “Honestly, it’s a pretty valid thing to worry about. You may be royalty, but you’re still a person.” Still a child, he wanted to say. Hadn’t they all been? Before the war, before all the death and destruction, they were nothing more than children. Teenagers who wanted fun and to be carefree before the reality of their lives came full force. Dimitri was no exception. “If it bothers you that much, I’ll stop referring to you as ‘Your Highness’ and all that.”

“Claude...” He could hear the guilt in Dimitri’s voice and it made something in his chest twist that made it agonizingly hard to breathe, even for just a second.

“None of that now.” Claude pulled himself away from the prince’s hold and smiled at him. “I’ll still call you by those lil’ nicknames. They suit you. But I promise you won’t be hearing any more ‘Your Highness’es from me.”

A hand reached out, to Claude’s surprise, and pulled the archer back to the prince’s chest. His face exploded into heat as Dimitri wrapped his arms around him, the taller boy resting his chin on his shoulder, and he could feel the gauntleted hands grab at the cloth on his back as if he was desperately trying to control himself.

The prince whispered, “Thank you, Claude.”

Hearing Dimitri speak so softly, being held in his arms, made something stir in him. Claude knew he shouldn’t get so close. He knew what fate awaited them—what awaited Dimitri—should his plan fail. And yet he could not help but look at this tender embrace they shared as a sign that, perhaps, things were indeed turning in his favor.

In his old life, he knew Dimitri as nothing more than another student. Another person to keep his secrets from. A storybook prince who held something dark close his chest, but for the life of him Claude was never able to figure it out until he saw that beast at Gronder. They had barely become friends before Edelgard declared war, and there was never a chance for this damned, warm feeling to actually have substance. Claude had felt it— _gods_ did he feel it, especially after the news came and Claude could not see Hilda or the professor or anyone else on what was left of the field and all that his mind could focus on was the image of the prince lying in a pool of his own blood, lance sticking straight through his skull, the ground soaked in red beneath his corpse until the professor was able to snap him out of the gruesome trance—but never before did he have a chance to _act_ on such feelings.

Claude would not waste the opportunity. Not again. He mirrored the prince’s actions, holding onto him, and whispered in turn, “It’s Khalid.”

Dimitri’s surprise was no shock to him. “What? But I thought-”

“A secret for a secret,” he replied. “I’ll help with this little research of yours, and to make sure I keep my mouth shut you get to know my real name. You don’t tell mine, I won’t tell yours. Sound fair?”

He still couldn’t afford to tell him the truth. Not yet. Maybe, one day, in the future. But not now.

“Yes, I suppose.” The two pulled away again, and the smile on the prince’s face brought those warm feelings back and Claude felt like he was drowning in them. “It’s late, and we should rest.”

Claude only gave a nod in agreement. The two house leaders walked side-by-side out of the library and towards the dormitories. They climbed the stairs to the section where most of the nobility slept, ensuring they were quiet so as to not disturb their fellow classmates.

Upon reaching Claude’s door, they turned to each other once again.

“Well, this is where we go our separate ways. At least until the morning,” the archer joked.

Dimitri chuckled. “Yes. I hope you sleep well tonight.” Another look flashed across the prince’s face, but as quickly as it came did it disappear. “Goodnight, Khalid.”

Claude couldn’t stop the smile that snuck onto his face. “Goodnight, Dimitri.”

Hearing that, Dimitri gave a bow and headed towards his own room. Claude watched him leave until he disappeared behind that wooden door before he went inside to sleep. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, nor could he stop smiling. He got undressed and changed into something more comfortable to sleep in. When that was said and done, Claude’s eyes glanced outside his window.

The moon was full, and its luminosity was alluring like that of a moth’s flame. He had seen that moon many times: from through his bedroom window in Almyra, the docks in Derdriu, above the dorms at Garreg Mach, and even the blood soaked ground as their army traveled across Fodlan. 

Everywhere he went, the same moon would follow, but never before had it looked so bright and beautiful as it did that night.

* * *

Byleth felt like he was losing his mind.

And Yuri sure as fuck wasn’t helping.

“If we don’t do something now, there’s going to be heavy consequences.”

“I know.”

“Almyra is starting to ask questions and they’re demanding answers. If we don’t give them something conflict will break out.”

“I know.”

“Our people can’t afford another fight with another country. Farms and villages are still recovering, and noble houses that fell due to Edelgard’s influence don’t have the funds to raise enough soldiers. Byleth, we need to-”

“Can’t you fucking see I can’t deal with this right now?” he growled. The archbishop stood so fast he knocked the chair he sat upon over as his hands slammed onto the table in front of him. He whirled around to glare at the Abyssian, glowing green eyes narrowed with pupils as sharp as a cat’s and fangs even sharper. His connection to Sothis was becoming much clearer by the day. “My husband is missing, and war is knocking on our very door! I have both Fodlan and Almyran courts to please all while managing the search! I can’t handle all this fucking pressure!”

Yuri scowled. “And I understand that. But with all due respect  _ Lord Byleth _ -” Gods, he fucking hated that title. He wished he could just throw it away. “-none of us quite have the luxury to take a break. Fodlan is still weak from its last war, and if the Almyrans believe we did something to their king we have no physical proof of our innocence. As reliable of a commander and ally as Nader is, he’s just one general. That won’t be enough to stop the other lords from picking up their axes and crossing the Throat.”

Byleth said nothing. The two men stared one another down, like lions stalking their prey, until the archbishop turned his face away from the other. He walked, slowly, towards the bed he and Claude shared. His form was shaking, and all his resolve collapsed as he buried his face in his hands and began to sob.

Guilt twisted in Yuri’s chest like a knife.

The Abyssian joined him on the mattress, placing a comforting hand on the archbishop. “Byleth, it’s been over a year now. We can’t afford to search for him.”

“But if we find him-”

“Byleth. If Claude wanted to come back by now, he would have. Hell, he would’ve been back after just  _ three months _ .” He sighed. “It’s clear he’s not coming back. I don’t know where he went, or why he would leave in the first place, but right now you have a duty to your people.”

“But I-”

“We will find him  _ eventually _ . For now, we need to focus our efforts on keeping the peace. It’s as you said: war is knocking on our door, and the world won’t wait for us to find him. The worst thing you can do right now is be like Rhea and focus on your own needs instead of, you know, being a leader.”

Byleth growled at the mention of that woman’s name. What Rhea had done was unforgivable. He couldn’t blame her—that would make him a hypocrite—but he knew she should have done better than destroy everything that got in the way of her plans.

He could understand why Edelgard hated the church so much.

“I won’t turn into her,” he replied. “But how can I be expected to just act like none of this happened? Like the man I love didn’t just...disappear out of thin air? With no trace or even reason?”

And oh, had Byleth considered such. He devised multiple ways Claude could have left: wyvern, wagon, horse, even by foot. But none of it would have been without leaving some kind of mark that indicated when and how he left. They did a headcount of all the mounts in the stables and every wyvern, horse, and pegasus were just as they had been. No supplies were missing, nor were any carts or carriages, and not a single guard that night reported seeing the Almyran king leave. There was always the possibility he would use a secret passageway, but then that left the question: why would Claude leave in the first place?

The ex-professor shook his head. “None of it just adds up, Yuri. Claude wouldn’t leave without at least leaving some sort of note. Some sort of way for us to know whether or not he was alive or dead. Not unless...”

_ Not unless he  _ wanted _ to disappear. _

The unspoken words filled the air, and Yuri hated that he could feel it. He scoffed.

“I don’t like what you’re implying,” he said. “I don’t think he’s got any good reason to just vanish. You’ve already defeated Fodlan’s greatest threat: what else would there be for him to be gone for over a year and not at least tell his loved ones he was still breathing?”

A sigh followed. “I don’t know Yuri. But I miss him, and not knowing where he is or if he’s even alive is killing me.” The archbishop wiped away a stray tear from his face. “I’m starting to think maybe  _ I’m _ the reason he ran off.”

Yuri frowned, but provided his thoughts with no voice.  _ If _ that was the case, he’d make sure to have Balthus sock the man good. Let him think twice before abandoning his friends and family—his fucking  _ husband _ —and try to justify it with some domestic issue he and the archbishop had. That was no excuse to let this mess happen as a result of some petty squabble.

The Abyssian let out a sigh as he wrapped Byleth in an embrace, holding the archbishop close and allowing the other man to bury himself into his shoulder. He rubbed gentle circles along his back in an effort to comfort him.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” he replied. “But we’ll know when he comes back-”  _ If he comes back. _ “-and until that happens we need you, Byleth. Fodlan needs you. But most of all...”

Yuri paused for a moment. There was something else, but he knew if he said it there could be consequences. Consequences he didn’t even want to consider. Then again, considering the archbishop’s state, perhaps it would be better if he  _ did _ hear it? Then, at least, he would feel wanted. No thanks to that von Riegan kid.

_ Fuck it, here goes nothing. _

Yuri pulled Byleth a little closer, heat flooding to his face as embarrassment filled him. He couldn’t afford to have his professor see him like this. “Most of all, Byleth,  _ I _ need you. We’ll get to Claude when we can, but there’s more important matters at hand and they need to be addressed. Please, Professor. Byleth...”

Byleth’s body suddenly stilled, his trembling earlier ceasing almost completely. Yuri’s mind began to race with millions upon thousands of thoughts. Did he mess up? Should he have stayed quiet? Oh, gods, what should he do now? Maybe if he just changed the subject-

The ex-professor pulling away from Yuri’s hold snapped the Abyssian out of his small trance. He stared in surprise before sea green eyes met amethyst and the tear-stained face of the archbishop was now weakly smiling at him.

Quietly Byleth mumbled, “Thank you, Yuri.”

The other slowly recovered from his shock. His face melted into an expression to mirror that of the archbishop’s, and he replied, “Don’t mention it. But, just for the record, that isn’t exactly my real name.”

Byleth’s head perked up. “Oh? Then perhaps you can tell me?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, his tone obviously playful. “My current name was given to me when I was taken in by Count Rowe, but if you want to find out my real name, well, you’ll just have to wait until I’m generous enough to tell you.”

The challenge made Byleth laugh, and Yuri felt a hint of pride in himself.

_ At least he’s smiling again. _

“Well,” the archbishop said. “I look forward to that day, then.”

A warmth emitted from Yuri’s chest, and as suffocating as it felt it was altogether a rather pleasant feeling as well. And it left the Abyssian smiling in return.

“As do I, Byleth. As do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also yes I think I just did add some Yuri/Byleth. OOPS MY BAD!  
> But you know what this means? MORE A N G S T -
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this! See you all next time!


	15. Capturing a Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude, Byleth, and the rest of the Golden Deer make their move to rescue Flayn.

As expected, Byleth made quick to find out all he could about Flayn’s disappearance. Claude needed little evidence, and he would have liked to charge head-first into Jeritza’s room and lead the Deer down the secret passageway. But it wouldn’t be that simple. It never was, after all.

When the professor returned with news of Manuela holding the knight’s mask before her own disappearance, the Deer created a plan to investigate the man’s room. They made their way over and knocked on the door.

“Knock. Knock. Is anybody-” Upon the third knock, the door slowly opened to reveal a passed out Manuela on the floor. Bernadetta let out a shriek.

“Professor Manuela!” she cried.

“She’s unconscious,” Claude said.

“Look! I think she might be pointing at something...”

All eyes turned, following the direction of the woman’s hand, and see nothing but a shelf. Of course, the archer remembered what was behind it. Claude didn’t hesitate to walk up to the flimsy piece of furniture and pull it away, revealing a tunnel that led down into a dark passage.

“A secret passageway,” Sylvain whispered.

“Would you look at that.”

“What is going on- Is that Professor Manuela?” Hanneman cried. “What happened here? We must take her to the infirmary at once!”

Claude gave a firm nod. “I’ve got it.” He turned to Byleth. “I’m going to need you to hold down the fort for me, Teach. I’ll be back once we get Professor Manuela taken care of.”

He then leaned closer, cupping his hand behind the man’s ear so as to obscure his voice from the prying ears of his classmates. “Whatever happens, don’t let him get away. He has valuable information.”

Byleth gave Claude a look. “I’m assuming you’re talking about Jeritza.” A nod followed.

“Yeah. Of course, our priority is saving Flayn. But if we manage to capture him-”

“The church will want him executed.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he replied sternly. “I’ve got a plan for that one.” The archer received a surprised expression.

“Oh? And will you be telling me this secret plan you’ve failed to mention.”

“If I do, it’ll take forever, and time isn’t on our side.” Claude pulled away from his professor. “Good luck, Teach. You’ve got this!”

Byleth let out a sigh, rolling his eyes at the archer. Claude laughed in return before he made his way to helping Hanneman with Manuela to the infirmary.

The woman wasn’t really heavy. Certainly not light like a feather, but not as heavy as a boulder either. And with the help of another fully grown person, it was fairly easy work. Priests and students alike gasped in shock and alarm as they witnessed the student and professor carrying the unconscious woman away from the room, through the monastery, and up to the infirmary. They placed her gently down on one of the beds when Hanneman turned to him.

“I need you to stay with Manuela while I find a healer to search for any injuries.”

“Got it.”

Hanneman gave one last nod before making his exit. Just as he left, a sudden shout broke through the air.

“Claude!” cried a voice.

The archer turned, seeing a frantic Dimitri and Dedue standing in the doorway of the infirmary. They must have been coming from the library. “Dimitri!” he called in return. “Just the guy I needed.”

“Claude, I saw you with the professor and... What happened to Professor Manuela?”

“We found her passed out in Jeritza’s room,” he explained. “But right now I need you to stay here with her. Hanneman will be back with a healer.”

“But Claude-”

“We don’t have time to waste. Just trust me on this one.”

He could feel the prince’s hesitation on the matter. Blue eyes glanced down to the unconscious professor, then back to Claude. With a sigh, Dimitri had given in.

“Very well. I’ll wait here with Dedue until Hanneman returns,” he said. “But Claude, surely you don’t intend to chase after Professor Jeritza, do you?”

Claude shook his head. “No. I’ve just...got an old friend to visit. That’s all.”

“Claude, this is hardly the time for reunions! Jeritza could very well be the one who kidnapped Flayn!”

“I’m well aware of that. But believe me, I’ve figured it all out.” A playful smirk came across his features. “This guy’s a professional.”

Without waiting for Dimitri to answer, or, more accurately, continue to ask questions, Claude ran out of the infirmary and down towards the commoner dorms. Luckily most of the students and staff were gathered in the halls and classrooms, leaving only the Knights in his way. However, they were likely more occupied with the current situation than a rogue student.

Claude found the look crook between the stairs up to the sauna and Byleth’s room, noticing a man in a ragged, brown cloak standing by an ally. He approached the man.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I need to get to Abyss.”

“Abyss?” the man asked. A laugh came shortly after. “What does a student from the Academy want with Abyss?” Then, the man’s eyes wandered down to Claude’s yellow cape. “A house leader no less?”

Claude bit back a sigh. “I need to speak with the leader of the Ashen Wolves,” he replied. “There’s a situation here, and I really need his help.”

The cloaked man quirked a brow at the teenager, but gave a light shrug and motioned towards the alley. He led Claude through until a dark path breaking through the stone of the monastery’s grounds was revealed.

“Right this way,” the man said.

Claude nodded in thanks, slowly and carefully making his way down the passage. He knew what would wait for him on the other side and briefly wondered if he should have brought his bow and axe.

Now. That’d just give off a bad impression. It was better he went unarmed. At least they’d be more likely to believe him, a surface dweller, had no intention to cause the Abyssians any harm. He just needed to make this quick.

He needed to find Yuri.

* * *

Byleth slashed through a second mage, making room for Marianne and Bernadetta to charge forward. The blue-haired Deer struck a nearby soldier with a Nosferatu spell while Bernadetta struck an axeman with her iron lance. With a loud cry, Byleth then used the Sword of the Creator against the second axeman who made a charge for Lorenz and Leonie, who were both busy fending off a swordsman. They had to hurry and get to Flayn and the Death Knight.

Or, really, Jeritza.

Byleth had a feeling the man was hiding something when he saw him in the Black Eagle classroom. But to think he was the enemy? That was a little far-fetched. Though it wasn’t the first time this sort of thing happened to the ex-mercenary.

 _To think I found him cute..._ , he thought bitterly.

**“Byleth!”**

_Right, right. Sorry._

The Golden Deer continued their onslaught as they made their way closer to the Death Knight. After passing through the second gate, Byleth’s class charged ahead. Hilda hurried to attack the archer to their right while Lysithea and Ignatz ran up ahead to distract the mage and swordsman waiting just by the hall to the other room. With those enemies taken care of, the rest of the Deer stormed ahead.

To the right, two other mages. To the left, a third and an archer.

“Leonie!” the professor called. “To the left!”

“You got it, professor!”

“Raphael! Lorenz! To the right!”

“On it!”

“Let’s do this!”

“Marianne, do you have the key?”

“Y-Yes!” she replied.

“Open the door,” he told her. “Sylvain, Bernadetta, Hilda, you’re with me.”

“C-Coming!”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“On our way!”

“The rest of you, when you’re done, head over here and help!”

The class shouted in unison, “Yes, professor!”

Byleth turned back down the hall and rushed forward with Hilda, Sylvain, and Bernadetta behind him. Marianne hurried ahead to open the last door and stayed further behind when the four ran into the small room leading up to the alter. In the center stood the Death Knight, mounted on his steed and covered from head-to-toe in that dark armor and helmet with glowing red eyes.

The paladin charged towards them, but was intercepted by Sylvain and his steel lance. Bernadetta moved to support him while Hilda took to fending off the incoming mages. With a few swings of her axe, the magic wielders fell along with their allies, left as corpses on the cold, tiled ground. Byleth was now free to focus on the Death Knight.

He approached carefully, eyeing the man’s long scythe. One hit and it would all be over…

The man laughed as Byleth cautiously moved towards him. “Now you will die together. How joyous...” His voice was modified under the helmet. Clearly it was meant for a disguise. Didn’t do a whole lot of good for him now.

Byleth reached for the Sword of the Creator, the blade glowing a bright orange hue in the dimly lit room, before he charged at the Death Knight.

_“If we manage to capture him...”_

Byleth couldn’t afford to kill Jeritza, but at the same time he could not leave him fully mobile. He just had to keep the man alive.

“Professor!” cried Lysithea. “Look out!”

Said man was snapped out of his thoughts just in time to dodge the Death Knight’s attack, the scythe just barely missing his head as Byleth ducked and rolled out of the way.

 **“For pete’s sake, stop spacing out!”** Sothis screamed. **“You just nearly lost your head!”**

He pushed the goddess’s voice aside as she nearly went on another rant. Her lecturing sure as hell wouldn’t help him focus.

_Sothis, I need you to be quiet!_

The girl let out a huff. **“Just finish this fool so we can be done with it! Stop thinking so much!”**

_But I can’t run in without a plan!_

**“Is that so? Then what were you doing not a moment ago?”**

_I was trying to-!_

Wait a second…

That’s it!

“Lysithea!” called the professor. The girl in question stood at attention. “I need you over here! If you attack him from a distance, I might be able to get an opening!”

“On it!” she called.

The young prodigy ran towards the professor, a Dark Spikes spell already in hand. When she was just close enough she hurled the spell at the knight hitting him dead on and nearly knocking him off his mount.

Jertiza let out a groan as he was struck by the spell, his head turning to the young Deer. “I have no need of you...”

He suddenly dashed at Lysithea, who prepared another spell to counter his attack, but before the knight could make it Byleth rushed in. Just as Jeritza lifted the scythe to strike down, the professor swung the Sword back—unlocking the weapon’s reaching ability—and then swung it forward with a shout.

The Death Knight had no time to react. The Sword and Byleth’s aim struck true, and the knight was struck on his arm. He let out a cry as the scythe was knocked out of his grasp. Now was his chance!

Byleth hurried forward, pulling the sword back before striking again and again. With each hit Jeritza was pushed backward until his mount, too, was struck by the blade. The horse let out a scream and collapsed onto the ground, the Death Knight falling with it. The sound of metal clanking and hitting the stone floor echoed through the room. It was done. The Death Knight was trapped under his steed.

The Deer and Byleth approached. Though most of them cautiously. The professor got the closest, deep blue eyes meeting the blood red of the helmet that hid the other’s true face. His class held their breaths as he reached for it, pulling the black armor off to reveal that it was, indeed, Professor Jeritza.

The man was in clear pain if his disgruntled expression was anything to go by. Even with armor as thick as his, he was no match for the weight of a full grown horse. A tactic the ex-mercenary hated using, but still enjoyed when it guaranteed victory. Especially when he needed the target alive.

“It’s over, Jeritza,” he told him. “You’ve lost.”

The man looked up at him, the look on his face still pained but otherwise rather neutral. “So it seems.”

Byleth ignored his wording, turning instead to his Deer. “Grab Flayn and the girl and retreat,” he told them. “I’ll wait here and make sure he doesn’t escape.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ignatz asked.

“I’ll have Lysithea waiting here with me just in case. Just get these girls out of here.”

The students all nodded, turning in unison away from the scene to hurry and grab the two unconscious girls. Raphael was careful as he lifted Flayn’s body and held it in his large arms. Meanwhile, Byleth kept his eye on the red-haired girl beside her.

“Actually, Lysithea,” the professor whispered.

The girl turned to him. “Yes, professor?”

“I need you to go with the others and keep a close eye on that girl.” He pointed over to the ginger. “Monica” Claude said she’d call herself. But he knew he shouldn’t trust the innocent guise. Claude had never told him why they couldn’t trust her. Just that he shouldn’t.

Whatever the case, he’d be right so far. There was no need to doubt his judgement.

Lysithea didn’t seem to question his orders. She got up and immediately chased after the others, leaving Byleth with the enemy.

Once the Golden Deer class fled the scene, a curt chuckle came from the knight. The professor turned back to him.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked. _Is there something funny?_ he _actually_ wanted to say.

“You are very...capable,” came the reply. “And strong. I wonder...”

“Yo, Teach!”

 **“Ah, just in time!”** Sothis chirped.

Byleth ignored the literally fallen knight for now and instead looked over to the entrance of the room where Claude, a young man with long, purple hair, and a group of brigands and thieves were heading towards him. The professor was surprised to see the archer with these people. Just who exactly were they?

“Teach, you did it!” Claude praised. “I knew you had it in ya.”

Byleth shook his head as he stood closer. “If it weren’t for your classmates, I don’t think we could have pulled this off. I’m assuming these people are a part of your plan?”

“Oh! Right! I nearly forgot,” he laughed.

Claude gestured to the young man standing beside him. His hair was a bright violet color and reached his shoulders, the long locks splaying out over his house leader uniform. Which in of itself made Byleth wonder: was this boy a house leader? And if so, to which house? He thought he'd met all three houses at the academy.

“Teach, this is Yuri: leader of the Ashen Wolves. They and all these guys here live in Abyss, a secret underground civilization under Garreg Mach that Rhea’s kept secret for a long while now,” the archer explained. “I managed to convince Yuri to our cause, seeing as he was such a good friend in my old life.”

**“Ah. That does clarify a few things.”**

“So he knows?” the professor asked.

“Yep!”

**“Wow. No hesitation whatsoever. He must really trust this boy.”**

Said boy, Yuri, gave a small bow as he stepped forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, professor,” he said. His voice was smooth and seemed naturally sultry. “Claude told me you guys would need a little help in rounding up the people who’ve been making everyone in Abyss fuss so much. Rumors spread quite fast from the surface to our humble abode down below, and news of someone so close to the archbishop and her right hand going missing rightfully made a few people rather...nervous.”

Byleth nodded in return. “You may call me Byleth. You aren’t one of my students, so formality isn’t really needed.”

Yuri smiled. “In that case, we’ll take things from here, Byleth. If you need him still, we’ll be keeping him in a secured room in Abyss far away from our people. Just in case.” The boy turned to the group behind him. “Alright, lads, let’s get him out of here.”

The thieves and brigands gave a salute to their leader before approaching Jeritza. Claude walked closer to the professor and whispered to him, “Is it such a good idea to just let them take him?”

“I doubt he’d put up much of a fight now,” the other replied. “I struck his horse during the fight and injured it, causing it to fall on top of him. His leg is likely broken if not fractured. He won’t be hurting anyone anytime soon.”

Claude let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. At least that’ll keep him immobilized for now.” He offered a smirk to his teacher. “But we should probably start leaving too. The Flame Emperor will arrive, and when she does I don’t think it’ll be pretty when she sees what we’ve done to her underlings.”

“Agreed.”

With Jeritza being taken care of, Claude and Byleth made their exit. They had to catch up to the rest of the Deer, and on the way find a valid excuse for lagging behind.

* * *

Not too long after Claude, Byleth, and Yuri disappeared from the alter room, two figures appeared in a flash of misty purple. One, cloaked entirely in red armor, gazed around from under her helmet. The other, dressed in an Officer’s Academy uniform, narrowed his eyes at the scene.

“It seems he’s been defeated,” the second said. “And they’ve taken the girls.”

“Not quite what we expected,” the first replied. “But so long as Monica does what she has been instructed, the plan should still fall into place.”

“I’d say this is all that boy’s doing.”

“Hm?”

A smirk came to the second’s face. “His class was in charge of the mission. The others said they left the Death Knight alive while their professor waited for the Knights to come so they may punish him. But the moment the Knights did come he was gone. Who do you think could have been behind it?”

“I do not know nor do I have the time to care. We must continue with the plan for now.”

“Yes, milady.”

“Then let us go.”

A nod came in response, and the two were warped away once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PRETIMESKIP YURI HAS JOINED THE FIGHT!!!  
> Jeritza's been captured. I wonder what will happen? :00
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this. I really suck at fight scenes so sorry if it was really awkward, but I tried.


	16. Death of a Lion - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As everyone prepares for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, Claude can't help but feel uneasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big warning: the first scene is kinda gory and depressing so yeah. Just lettin' ya'll know.

_The smell of chamomile in the air brought a smile to Claude’s face, and he couldn’t help but stare back into those baby blue eyes that gazed upon him with such warmth as they sat underneath the gazebo. It’d been some time since Claude felt this way—though if you asked him how long, he wouldn’t have an answer—and just the slightest brush of their fingers on the table made his heart skip a beat._

_Tales of knights in shining armor and Prince Charmings rescuing damsels in distress were nothing compared to seeing Dimitri in these quiet moments. These small windows of time where they were neither a duke nor a prince. Just two fools pining for one another, going in circles like dogs chasing their tails, both too afraid to speak of what was in their hearts._

_Something in the back of Claude’s mind told him none of it was real. But how could something so wonderful, so perfect, be fake? Even if it was, for once, couldn’t he just let his guard down and enjoy this? Enjoy the smile Dimitri gave him, the look of adoration in his eyes, the faintest hint of a blush across his cheeks that, no doubt, matched his very own? After all he’d been through, didn’t he deserve this?_

_“Claude,” the prince said to him._

_With no hesitation, he answered, “Yes, Mitya?”_

_Dimitri took full grasp of his hand, pulling the other forward. Claude lazily followed his lead as they both leaned closer over the table. The archer felt the chilled touch of metal—he wondered if the prince would take the gauntlet off if he asked?—against his cheek and allowed his eyes to flutter closed. But there was nothing. No lips against his own like he expected, and the feel of Dimitri’s touch had vanished as well. He opened his eyes, confusion wracking his brain, and was surprised to find himself in the training grounds instead._

_Claude turned his head to see if he could find anyone,_ anyone _, who would know what was going on only to see Felix with his sword, mumbling something under his breath. On the other side stood Dimitri and Dedue. The latter seemed to be pleading with the prince, and Claude opted to scope things out._

_“Hey, what’s going on over here?” he asked, his tone as casual as it could be considering he nearly kissed the blond next to him less than a moment ago._

_Dimitri glanced away, almost embarrassed, as Dedue turned to Claude with a frown. “Claude, please, speak to him. If he hears it from you that he needs rest, perhaps His Highness will listen.”_

_The prince sighed. “He’s exaggerating, Claude,” he replied. “He thinks my color is off and that rest will cure all. I have a headache, but that’s just from lack of sleep. It’s not going to stop me from helping you in this month’s mission.”_

_Claude pressed his lips into a tight line. Why did this all feel so familiar?_

_“While I agree with Dedue that you should get some sleep, I don’t think I can stop you from staying awake. Just try not to overdone it, yeah?”_

_Dedue didn’t seem to agree. His frown only deepened. “But I must insist-”_

_“Who do you think you are?” Dimitri’s growl was...well, Claude had no other word for it but feral. He had never heard the prince speak with such a tone before, least of all to someone as close to him as Dedue. “I can take care of myself, Dedue. I don’t need to be coddled.”_

_The archer turned to the prince. “Whoa, no need to get all hostile there, your princeliness. Big guy’s just a lil’ worried about ya. And considering the bags under your eyes, he’s got a pretty good reason to.”_

_A groan came from the other. “I understand the concern, but, truly, I’m fine.”_

_For some odd reason, Claude didn’t believe him. Maybe it was the prince’s unkempt appearance, or how tired he just looked, but something deep inside the archer told him something was wrong. He opened his mouth to retort, for he suddenly thought rest was exactly what Dimitri needed, but the scene suddenly shifted and both the prince and his vassal disappeared before Claude could even blink._

_Then the familiar smell of ash filled his senses._

_Claude found himself in a field, the sound of soldiers crying out in pain echoing like drums in his ears, swirls of red and orange blaze lit up the dry grass around them, and that gods forsaken smell of rotting and burning flesh._

_He had to get out of here._

_The archer made a mad dash through the battlefield, soldiers falling left and right wherever he turned. He passed by the fallen bodies of his allies—his classmates. Leonie with an arrow pierced in her chest, Lysithea collapsed in a pool of her own blood, Ignatz with a blank face and eyes clouded over as he stared into nothing, Raphael not too far off from the other man and wearing a smile despite the still-growing red stain spreading across his torso. Claude didn’t want to look at any of it, and so he ran further and further, his legs beginning to get exhausted, until he saw_ him _._

_Claude froze in his tracks as a single, blue eye held a deadly focus on him. A snarl escaped from the other’s lips, which were pulled back to further express just how feral the man had become in such a short amount of time._

_Dimitri stood across from him, glaring with such hatred at the man he once called his friend, and Claude could do nothing but watch as a soldier snuck up from behind. He tried to warn him, tried to tell him, but he could make no sound, as if the ability had been stolen from him, and with a sharp thrust of the Imperial soldier’s lance the feral prince had joined the fallen. Once his body hit the ground, the archer’s voice suddenly returned._

_And Gronder was left silent with nothing but Claude’s screams echoing through the warm, mid-spring air._

* * *

Claude awoke in his bed with a startled cry, his body bolting upright as he clutched the blankets in a death grip. His heart was pounding, blood drumming in his ears, and his nerves were aflame. He took a glance around, recognizing the small space of Garreg Mach’s dorms, and quickly began to feel himself calm.

A nightmare. A brutally fucked up nightmare.

The archer continued to steel himself, his heart and breath relaxing as he was once more in touch with his surroundings. He let out a frustrated sigh as he flopped right back onto the mattress and stared up at the ceiling.

It had been only a few days since the Golden Deer rescued Flayn and Monika—no,  _ Kronya _ —and though Rhea and Seteth were skeptical as to what happened with Jeritza the archer’s claim that he attacked Claude and escaped was enough to get them to drop the subject. For now, Yuri would have to be extra careful as the whole monastery was still on high alert.

But the very next day, not only was it announced there would be a fishing tournament held in celebration of Flayn’s safe return, but Rhea had happily announced the upcoming, traditional contest held every year between the three houses: the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.

Perhaps the news of returning to Gronder, though for many it would be their first experience there, had brought on these nightmares. These visions of the field set aflame under Edelgard’s command, his comrades and enemies alike falling victim to the blaze, the pile of corpses so large you could hardly tell who was friend or foe, and, worst of all, the sickening memory of Dimitri’s death.

Claude had never bore witness to it himself, but, gods, did he wish he was at least there. Perhaps his guilt was manifesting itself into these dreams... Whatever the case was, he couldn’t let this distract him.

A knock on the door nearly made Claude jump out of his skin. His body jolted again, spine nearly snapping as he threw himself to sit up once more with his eyes glued to the door.

“Claude?” cried the voice. “It’s me, Ingrid. Is everything alright?”

_ Ah. Just her. _

“Y-Yeah,” he shouted back. Gods, did she hear the quivering in his voice? He surely hoped not. “Just uh, a little startled is all. I was just really invested in this book and, well, was just surprised when you knocked.”

“Oh. My apologies, then. But...” She fell silent.

Against his better judgement Claude prompted, “‘But...’?”

“But...” she repeated. “...But Felix said he heard shouting from your room. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Huh. How nice of her to be concerned. Claude understood he and Ingrid weren’t especially close, neither during their days at the academy nor during the war, and he was surprised to see she was kind to him after all that had occurred. Then again, perhaps death truly did create the most impossible of friendships.

Claude physically laughed off her concern. He had to make her think he was fine.

“Yep! I’m just dandy! In fact, I’m  _ starving _ . Might head out to the dining hall and grab a bite to eat!”

“Oh. Well, if you’re sure... In that case, I suggest you hurry. Breakfast will be ending soon and it won’t be for another hour until they have lunch prepared.”

“You got it! Thanks for the heads up, Ingrid.”

“Of course. Well, I’ll be seeing you then.”

The sound of footsteps slowly getting quieter hinted that she had left. Claude released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding before throwing the covers off himself. If he didn’t show up to the dining hall in time, it’d look suspicious.

The house leader threw on his Academy uniform before making his way to the dining hall. It was pretty much cleared out save for the few students chatting away with their friends. Claude walked up to the staff to grab a plate, the old woman behind the counter smiling at him.

“Oh! You’re just in time. This is the last serving we have for today.” The woman reached over to hand Claude a plate of pickled rabbit skewers with a side of vegetables. His stomach suddenly rumbled in anticipation, earning him a teasing laugh from the chef that made him blush in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he said to her with a wave and a smile.

“You’re quite welcome, dear!”

Now that he had some food, Claude scanned through the room for an unoccupied space. He didn’t feel like being social at the moment. Perhaps for the entire month until the mock battle was over.

He eventually found a spot by the entrance to the main hall and took a seat in the middle of the table. He could feel himself drooling over the delicious plate of food in front of him. Picking up a piece of pickled rabbit, Claude dug into his meal. He hadn’t remembered the last time the dining hall had served this dish. They ought to do so more often.

“Ah, Claude, there you are.”

_ Oh, fuck. _

The archer nearly choked on his food when Dimitri called to him. He had to wolf the stuff down for an easy recovery, less the chivalrous prince worry himself over him choking to death. Claude feigned a smile, pretending as if he didn’t just nearly die from rabbit meat stuck in his throat and see the man get stabbed straight through the skull.

Yeah, this month was  _ not _ going to be fun.

“Hey, your princeliness. Were you looking for me?”

“Yes, actually. I was speaking to the professor when Ingrid came into the classroom and mentioned you would be here.” A bashful look spread across the prince’s face. “I was hoping, perhaps, you would like to join me for tea this evening? That is, if you aren’t busy.”

_ Gods, please stop being so damned cute... _

Claude wasn’t sure where he stood. On the one hand, it would be nice to have an evening to relax. Maybe—he dared to hope so—the first part of his dream could come true? But, on the other hand, there was the dream itself.

Even now, Dimitri’s smile shifted into a scowl and his right eye would disappear under a black cloth. The vision would come and go again and again as they had done when he first woke up at the academy. He wasn’t sure if he could handle that. All the emotions he felt just  _ looking _ at the prince were a hard pill to swallow.

Claude may let go of the past, but it would not easily loosen its hold of him.

“I uh… I-I’ll think about it. Give me until lunch, at least. I’ve...got a lot on my mind.”

As he always had, Dimitri wore his heart on his sleeve. The way his face expressed the hurt he felt came and went, but Claude saw it all the same.

“I suppose that’s fair. I look forward to it.”

Claude gave Dimitri one last smile, the best he could muster, before the prince bid him adieu and left. Likely to join the rest of the Lions for training or to help the staff out with some chores. Either way, Claude felt a sense of relief fill him when the prince was gone.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone ever tells you the college process in America is easy they're fucking lying to you.
> 
> Also, yes this chapter will be broken into two parts. Meaning MORE ANGST! Woooooooooooooooooooooo!


	17. Gronder Field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of the Eagle and Lion has arrived. But everywhere Claude looks, he only sees the haunting faces of fallen allies and enemies alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally titled "Death of a Lion - Part 2" but I have something better in mind for that title.

Finally, after weeks, the dreadful day had arrived.

The march to Gronder Field was long and, in Claude’s honest opinion, brutal. The Golden Deer were just a little ways off from the Black Eagles with the Blue Lions some few feet behind both classes. Claude wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with watching Edelgard walk ahead so confidently. How she held an air about her that, sickeningly, reminded him too much of the emperor she would become. Perhaps she had not changed at all during those five years. That, or this attitude of hers was nothing but an act.

Claude didn’t know the answer, and that was what pissed him off the most.

The rest of the Eagles seemed well. With Petra and Bernadetta now in his care, he knew their lives would be spared. They would fight with the Alliance when the time came. The others, however...

He first spared a glance at Caspar who walked leisurely by Linhardt’s side. He remembered their battle at Fort Merceus well. Caspar, wonderfully goofy Caspar, dressed nearly from head to toe in a full suit of armor, swinging his axe with a mighty roar before he was cut down. With a smile, Linhardt’s name was the last thing that fell from his lips as he stared across the battlefield where the other man already laid dead.

Shaking his head, Claude moved his gaze away from them towards a certain songstress.

Dorothea, Ferdinand, Hubert, and Edelgard seemed to be walking as one big entourage. The opera singer ensured she stood by the future emperor’s side, exchanging playful banter that made the girls smile at one another. Dorothea was always the flirtatious type, and he doubted Edelgard was the exception to that. The two were quite close, now that he remembered, and he wondered if perhaps they could’ve been something more had she stayed with the Black Eagles.

She would have died for Edelgard as more than just a subject. As more than just a general in her army. Maybe it was better that she was recruited. He’d have to talk to the professor about that after this whole mess...

Then there was Ferdinand, who seemed to be talking Hubert’s ear off to the point the latter looked like he was exactly one minute away from murdering the von Aegir heir right then and there. For a moment, the man’s hair had suddenly grown out, and instead of his well-kept Academy uniform he was dressed in paladin’s armor with a steel lance by his side. Claude would see to it he would still survive the attack at the Great Bridge. Lorenz as well. They would both live to see the war. But there was something about the rider that unsettled Claude.

His whole demeanor when he was around Hubert... Could they be...?

“Claude, you’re distracted.”

The archer nearly jumped out of his skin, his head whirling to see Byleth walking alongside him with his ever-so-blank expression. He let out a sigh.

“Geez, Teach, no need to scare a guy like that.”

“My apologies. That wasn’t my intention...” A small frown pulled at the professor’s face. “But are you certain you’re alright? You’re staring at the Eagles. Are you...?”

Claude shook his head. “I’m alright, Teach. Really. Just...some bad memories. That’s all.”

Byleth’s frown deepened. “That certainly doesn’t convince me you’re alright.”

A silence filled the space between them as they continued to march with the rest of the students. It lasted only for a moment before the professor asked, “How bad was it?”

The archer’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“We’re entering Gronder Field. You’re staring at what will become our enemy,” he said. “You told me how bloody Gronder would be if we didn’t trek carefully. If you wish, you could sit the battle out.”

“What? No. I...” Shit, now what was he supposed to say? “No. I-I’ll be fine, Teach. Promise.”

Byleth gave Claude a look, one the archer couldn’t diagnose. But he understood the professor’s lack of physical expression well enough to understand he wasn’t buying it. He sighed.

“Alright. If I have a panic attack on the field, by all means drag me away to Manuela. Deal?”

“...Very well.” Byleth placed a hand on Claude’s shoulder. “But don’t force yourself into doing this either. If you need to pull back, do so. Understood?”

Claude gave a nod. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

The professor nodded to him. Claude watched as he pulled himself away from the archer to join the rest of the Deer. He couldn’t help but eye Bernadetta and Petra. Both of them had perished in the war, but with them now a part of their team their lives were guaranteed. Claude couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

He was going to save them. As many as he could. They would all live to see the end of this brutal war.

* * *

When the three classes took their places across the field, Claude felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. The scene was so painfully familiar, and though he knew they were still students also knowing what would take place on this field in five years time made everything about this feel...wrong.

Rhea and Seteth stood atop of the hill that looked down upon the field. Everyone was eagerly waiting when the latter’s form stepped forward. A flag was raised behind him, and the battle began.

Dimitri’s forces took the first charge—well, isn’t that just familiar?—with Edelgard’s following them very quickly. Claude was the last of the three to send his “army” forward.

Students ran onto Gronder’s grassy plains with excited, adrenaline-filled screams as they waved their weapons in the air. Real weapons. Steel and iron lances, bows, swords, you name it. The goal was never to fully strike your opponent, only to either disarm them or knock them onto the ground with no defense, but he still didn’t understand the need for students to hold something that could easily kill their classmate with one false swing.

“To better prepare them for a true battle” he heard the excuse. Claude only scoffed at it.

The professor’s tactics were easy to follow. First, he as well as Petra and Bernadetta were to head towards the central hill. With his sharp eye and the girls’ strength, they would easily take out the Eagle students waiting for them there. Hilda, Marianne, and Leonie were to take the western bridge to intercept the cavalry. Raphael, Ignatz, and Lorenz would take the eastern bridge to distract the Lions and guide them away from the hill with Lysithea as their healer. The young prodigy had been studying faith magic for weeks to prepare for this, and she was eager to show off her skills. Meanwhile, Byleth and Sylvain would try to stay as close to the center as possible in case one of the three groups needed assistance.

Claude easily slipped past the two brigands thanks to Petra and Bernadetta—the Brigid princess was excellent with a sword, and who knew such an easily intimidated girl could wield a lance like that?—and aimed at the nearby archer.

Suddenly, another memory flashed, and Claude nearly dropped his bow. Instead of a faceless student, there stood an older Bernadetta. Flames licked at her feet as she aimed right back at Claude, her hands trembling.

_“I’m so sorry, Claude...”_

“Bernadetta...”

_“I...” Hot tears ran down the woman’s face. “I don’t want to do this! I’m sorry!”_

_The arrow was released, flying through the air until the archer felt a hot singe in his shoulder. He released a gasp before quickly grabbing for his own bow, nocked, drew, and fired. Fiery green eyes momentarily met shaking gray, and Claude watched as the arrow dug itself neatly into the poor woman’s throat, blood gushing-_

“...aude. Cla....de. Claude!”

The boy let out a surprised yelp as someone forcibly slammed themselves against him, knocking them both to the ground. Bernadetta’s familiar scream ripped through the air, but it sounded more worried than pained.

Claude found himself back at Gronder, this one not burning to cindered ashes, and looked up to see Petra throw herself off of him just in time to dodge an arrow.

“Wha... What?”

“Now is not the time for the dreaming of days!” she shouted. Another _whoosh!_ sounded through the air, tearing a hole into Petra’s shirt as she was nearly struck and a thin stream of blood running down her arm. “Hurry to your feet!”

Claude turned his head back to the student, who was indeed not the grown Bernadetta he saw in those flames, and rushed to gain his footing back. He nocked his bow, drew, and fired. His aim struck true, and the girl’s bow was knocked away from her hand with a loud hiss of pain. She rubbed at the wound and sighed.

“You win!” she shouted. Then, she hastily made her retreat.

A small victory for the Golden Deer.

Bernadetta rushed up to Claude. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” she asked frantically. “You didn’t get hurt?”

Claude looked down at the girl, the memory of her standing in the dancing fire once again flickering across his eyes. “No. It’s fine, I’m fine. Really.”

“My apologies, Claude.” Petra, too, stepped closer. “It was not in my intentions to hurt you,” she said. “Bernadetta knows I am being hard- no, uh... Rough. I can be rough. Are you certain you are alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll live. Just...distracted.” He sighed. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“W-Well... We should get moving then. We can’t let the other classes destroy each other if we want that prize!”

“Yes, I agree. We must have victory!”

A small smile spread across Claude’s face. He nodded to them, and with newfound determination exclaimed, “Yeah, we got this!”

The three of them trekked further along the hill. From this point, Claude could see the rest of his Deer fighting valiantly. Raphael was taking on three armed students, Ashe already seeming out of the picture, with his iron gauntlets while Lorenz and Ignatz worked together to take down Annette and Mercedes. Byleth seemed to zoom past them to knock down another brigand-classed student standing near the hill.

Looking over to the right, he could see Leonie going toe-to-toe with Ferdinand while Hilda and Marianne double-teamed a poor swordsman. That guy was going to wake up with some serious bruising...

Ahead of them was more of the Blue Lions and Black Eagles: Caspar and Linhardt against Felix. Dimitri and Dedue waited patiently behind them, no doubt looking for an opening to charge after the rest of the Eagles since the Deer were too scattered.

_Dimitri..._

Claude shakes the thought away as soon as it manifests. No. He would not think of that. Dimitri was very, very far from being the monster he would no doubt become once Edelgard revealed herself. He was still kind and compassionate, even against his rival house leaders. He couldn’t be distracted.

“Petra, you charge up ahead. If neither of the two from either side gets kicked, attack the weakest side. Bernadetta, you go as her backup. I’ll be right behind you both.”

Bernadetta nearly screamed, “Have you lost your mind? This is Felix and Caspar we’re talking about! They won’t just go down like that!” It was funny how true her point was. 

Petra placed a hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder. “You do not have to have worry, Bernadetta. I will be there to fight by your side!”

“She's right,” Claude said. “Petra, you take on Felix then Caspar. Bernadetta, Linhardt is your goal. He likely won’t even bother putting up a fight.”

“I-If you’re so sure... But then who would you be up against?”

“Don’t worry.” The archer looked over his shoulder, the other two’s gazes following as their eyes landed on their professor. Byleth was fastly approaching the patient prince and his vassal. He turned back to them and sent her a wink. “Teach has my back. Now hurry, this plan’s all about timing.”

“On it!” shouted Petra, excited for battle.

“O-Okay,” Bernadetta weakly muttered.

The two girls then set off, and Claude followed close as he kept an eye on the professor. He would have to make it to Dedue and Dimitri's position before Byleth could. After all, the archer had stairs to jump down while the professor had nothing but flat land to worry about. If he wasn’t fast enough, the whole plan could fall apart.

Claude made a mad dash as Petra and Bernadetta took on the two sides, his eyes briefly meeting that of the ever-alert Dedue. The broad man readied his axe for combat. The fire in his eyes were the same as ever; Claude would never forget them. Nor how they seemed to die after the prince’s demise, burning only in the heat of battle the closer they drew to the Imperial palace where his grave awaited him.

“Claude!”

The archer was again surprised by a sudden weight being shoved against him, though this time he landed on his own. A loud clang of metal rang through the air, and Claude looked up to see Byleth standing off against Dedue. The Sword of the Creator as pressed against Dedue’s axe, and from there it was anyone’s game.

“A nice save, professor,” the man complimented. He shifted his position, giving himself the edge as his weight slowly began to overpower the strength of the professor. “But I will win in His Highness’s name.”

Byleth grunted as he was pushed backwards, his feet digging into the dirt. He glanced to Claude. “I told you: if you need to sit out-”

“I said I’m fine!” He didn’t mean to be so loud, but Claude just didn’t want to think about it. Any of it. Yet, he couldn’t help himself.

“Then for Sothis’s sake, focus!” his teacher shouted back. “Get up and fight!”

For a moment, Claude was still. Byleth’s words rang back and forth through his head like a mantra.

Fight. He needed to fight this. Not just the battle, but his memories. Likely, the teacher never meant it in such a light. But it was enough to get the archer standing again and charging forward. Soon, he found himself standing face-to-face with Dimitri.

The last time he saw the prince on this field... He would never forget it, no matter how many years would pass. The determined look in his eyes were nothing compared to the feral desire in the only one he would have left. His lips, pulled into a focused frown, did not snarl at him like that of a beast. His hair was not coated in blood and dirt from years of living in the wilderness, and he did not have his family’s heirloom that he’d use to cut Edelgard’s head from her shoulders in his hands just yet. The memories slowed, and soon faded as the red blazes raging through the plains disappeared to reveal lush wildlife and the tall, beastly warrior was replaced by the kind, fairytale prince standing before him.

This was a Fodlan that did not yet know war, and this was a Dimitri who had yet to give in to his bloodthirsty ways. He would cherish both for the time he had left with them.

“Well, well, well,” the archer said with a feathery tone. “Hey, Your Royalness! If you promise to let me have the prize, I’ll let you take the honor of victory. Do we have a deal?”

Dimitri scowled. “Enough of your foolishness! I- Wait a moment. You are trying to anger me, is that it?”

Claude gasped in feigned surprise. “Who? Me? Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, I thought you had a little more faith in me than that-”

“Claude...”

“Alright, alright. You saw right through me, huh?” The archer chuckled as he nocked his bow. “Well, if there’s no deal, I’ll just have to win this thing fair and square!”

The prince smiled in return, taking an offensive stance as he held his lance close. “I will happily face you, here and now. Do not hold back Claude!”

This was it. This was the moment.

Claude drew his bow back, just as he had always done, but when Dimitri charged at him the scene had completely changed once again.

Rather than the innocent, smiling prince he had grown to care for, there was a raging beast running at him like a hungry wyvern. A single, pale blue eye was as aflame as the burning corpses and grass surrounding them. Claude stared in both horror and fear as the beast raised Areadbhar above his head, the relic’s Crest Stone glowing blood red and drumming like the heart it once, and likely still did, functioned as.

_“To the eternal flames with you!”_

“Claude!”

One strike against his head, and Claude’s world turned dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry this took so long to get updated and if it sucks. My other cat had kidney stones and was really sick, so the whole family got depressed since we can't afford to get her checked out and just prepared for her to pass naturally. Thankfully, though, it seems like she passed them and is healing pretty well. She's drinking water and eating again, she's stopped bleeding, and she's not making as many frequent trips to the bathroom. For now we still need to keep an eye on her just in case it comes back cause you never know.
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this!
> 
> Edit: forgot Sylvain was an honorary Deer now. Oops.


	18. Death of a Lion - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude finds himself at the Battle of Gronder, where he faces off against the feral prince.

He wasn’t sure when he woke up, but when he did everything had changed again.

The time had come. The three armies stood on the grassy plains, weapons ready. To the southern end stood the Imperial army and their liege of demonic beasts. Claude eyed the mages that took center stage, watching them carefully as they released their magic onto the field.

Kingdom and Alliance soldiers fell with screams of terror echoing through the ears of their countrymen. Flames suddenly licked at the dry grass, and soon nearly all of Gronder was lit aflame. The duke let out a dry laugh.

“As far as reunions go... This has got to be the worst in history...”

Claude wasn’t sure when he had arrived at the field. He swore that less than a moment ago he stood here among peers, fellow students, in a mock battle they would all laugh at and tease each other over. Perhaps it was simply the nostalgia of this place and the bittersweet memories it held. Those peaceful times flooded his mind and were starting to play tricks on him. He couldn’t afford that, not now.

A sudden roar from the Kingdom snapped Claude back to the scene, and he urged his soldiers forward. Soon, all three territories flooded Gronder Field.

Claude took to the center, leading his squadron along with those of Lysithea and Lorenz. Hilda stood behind with her own in case of a sneak attack. Not like the woman hadn’t volunteered to stay back while everyone charged ahead. Byleth did not stray too far off from his side either, despite his protests. He should focus on keeping their left flank protected. That was the agreement. But it seemed their dear old professor had his own plan in store.

Claude rushed ahead of the cavalier and mage to take out the archer on the central hill. His eyes met Bernadetta’s, who stared back in alarm as he drew his arrow.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “But this is how it has to be.”

Bernadetta mirrored his movements, hot tears streaming down her face. “Claude!” she cried. “Please, don’t do this!”

“Bernadetta, there’s no other way!” he shouted in return. “Maybe, if things had been different... But for now, either you strike me down or die trying!”

“I... I don’t want to fight!”

Of course. She never had. Sweet, kind Bernadetta had always just wanted to be left in peace. To enjoy her solitude with her plants and writing. That was all she had ever wanted, right? But now she was thrown into battle, into a war she never wanted, just like so many others. And here was Claude, forced to kill her. For in war: it’s kill or be killed.

Claude let his arrow fly, but the other archer was just as quick. She narrowly dodged his attack before drawing back her bow and firing it. The duke pulled on his wyvern’s reins, the arrow nearly tearing through her wing. But in his quick retreat, there was a series of shouting. The faintest sounds of “fire” and “hill” were all that reached his ears, and when he looked down again his eyes were blown wide.

The hill was suddenly lit aflame, likely under Edelgard’s orders. Bernadetta was trapped in the fire with the other soldiers. She let out a terrified scream as her squadron dropped like flies around her, thrashing about in the flames until their burnt corpses collapsed. She was entirely alone now.

She didn’t seem to forget her position, though, as she drew and aimed again. “Stay back!” she shouted. “Stay back, or I’ll shoot!”

“Bernadetta!”

Tears continued to stream down the woman’s face, her arms beginning to tremble in fear. She knew she would not make it if she didn’t shoot.

“I’m so sorry, Claude... I...” She choked on a sob. “I don’t want to do this! I’m sorry!”

The arrow was released, flying through the air until the archer felt a hot singe in his shoulder. He released a gasp before quickly grabbing for his own bow, nocked, drew, and fired. Fiery green eyes momentarily met shaking gray, and Claude watched as the arrow dug itself neatly into the poor woman’s throat, blood gushing out and down into her shirt before her body fell to join the many others.

Had he not seen such things before, surely he would have hurled.

The three squadrons pressed forward, climbing down the hill into the heat of battle. They were now surrounded on both sides with Hubert and his battalions of dark mages to the right as well as Felix and Sylvain’s to the left, Dimitri and Dedue just behind them.

_They’re planning a full-on assault against the Empire..._

“Lysithea, Lorenz, you two face off against Felix and Sylvain. Don’t try to take on Hubert just yet. Leonie, Flayn, and Cyril should be coming around from the west field. When they’re close enough to aid you, go in for the kill.”

Lysithea looked to him with a stern frown. “What about you?”

Claude hesitated, his eyes glancing towards their professor. He nearly took out half of the Kingdom’s army on his own and was quickly closing in. Not too far off, he could see a familiar shade of gold charging towards their location.

“Teach and I will handle Dimitri,” he said.

“What?” Lorenz shouted. “Claude, have you lost your mind? Have you not heard what that man has done to entire armies _by himself_?”

“Just trust me, it’ll work out,” he replied. Gods, he at least hoped so.

The two generals nodded their heads. Lysithea was the first to charge forward again while Lorenz lagged behind. He didn’t turn to look at his commander as he said to Claude, “Don’t die facing him. We still need you.”

For a moment, Claude was taken aback. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Lorenz. Who else would bother you just with their mere presence if I was gone?”

A groan followed. “Never mind. Forget I said anything...” And with that, Lorenz took off.

Claude watched him for a short minute before taking his wyvern’s reins and ushering her away. He flew over soldiers and bodies alike before landing at the side of his beloved professor.

“Yo, Teach!” he shouted. “Dimitri’s coming at both sides full force.”

The professor turned to him. “What do you propose we do?” he asked.

“Talk. Maybe we can convince him to join us.”

“Claude, I don’t think-”

“We’ve got to at least try!”

Byleth said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes. Claude didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t know if he could. But he knew something was off about this. A hard feeling in his gut told him it was wrong, that there was nothing he could gain from trying to reason with the refuged prince, but his heart was pleading with him to at least make an effort.

The professor sighed in defeat. “Very well. Know I will not be far off if something goes wrong.”

Claude nodded. “Yeah. I... Thank you, Professor.”

Byleth grunted in return, and the two moved forward. Lysithea and Lorenz were likely still dealing with Sylvain and Felix. Thankfully, they made it just in time.

The Kingdom army looked completely decimated, but amongst the corpses the prince stood tall. As Claude approached he couldn’t help but notice the fiery rage consuming the other man, the sheer hatred in his lone, blue eye. His armor, cloak, and hair were caked in blood, dirt, and gods knew what else.

“Claude. Stay out of my way.”

_His voice..._

Gods, did Claude want to cry. This man before him was nothing like the sweet boy he had grown to know in their last few months at Garreg Mach. Had the war truly changed him that much?

“Just... Calm down, Dimitri,” he pleaded. “What does it achieve, us killing each other here?”

The prince’s lips were pulled back into a snarl, revealing sharp canines that no doubt could tear a man’s throat apart. “Move, Claude. I have no time to exchange words with you.”

“But Dimitri-”

“Get out of my sight, or I will kill you both!”

The duke felt...unsure. Unsure whether he should be heartbroken or return to the coldness he became familiar with in his childhood. Unsure whether he should continue to reach out or do as he should as leader of the Alliance.

In the end, Claude knew this was all for not. With a heavy sigh he muttered unto himself, “It doesn’t matter what I’m saying, does it? You won’t even listen. But I’m not gonna budge.”

_No matter how much it kills me to do so._

Claude nocked and drew his relic, Failnaught, aiming at the prince. Dimitri instantly saw it as a challenge, and if his wild grin was any indication it was clear he happily accepted it. The prince raised his own relic, Areadbhar, and ran at Claude with a mighty force. He thrusted the lance forward again and again with the duke dodging each time, soaring high above the field on his wyvern. Meanwhile, Claude released as many arrows as he could at Dimitri, but the man did not budge. His aim did not falter, no, but it was clear it would take more than just a couple of shots to take down such a beast of a man. Even with the power of a relic.

But the more Claude dodged his attacks, the more it seemed like the prince wasn’t even trying. Like he was not his goal. Their battle continued to move across the field with every step they took, each one bringing them closer and closer to the Imperial army. More importantly, closer to Edelgard.

 _So it’s her that he wants_ , Claude thought to himself. _He doesn’t care about anything else except for taking down Edelgard. Good. At least I know he doesn’t really care about killing me._

The duke followed Dimitri’s movement, keeping an eye on him with every step he took as he repeated his assault. Nock, draw, aim, fire. Nock, draw, aim, fire. Over and over, he’d shoot again and again hoping for some sort of advantage. But all the prince did in return was dodge or attack. Claude flew a little closer thinking it would help change this looping stalemate, but it proved to be his end.

Dimitri thrusted Areadbhar again, and, now that Claude was within his reach, struck the duke’s wyvern. The lance embedded itself into the creature’s neck, and the wyvern let out a strangled cry. Claude quickly lost control as it was thrown into hopeless panic before losing all of its strength, collapsing onto the ground with Claude still saddled.

Claude fell to the ground with a hard grunt, jumping off at the last minute to save himself from being crushed by the creature’s massive weight. Though he had no doubt his leg was now too injured for him to move. Falling from such a height would never leave a man totally unscathed if not dead. His vision grew blurred as his mind was still whirling from the impact. He could only smell the smoke that covered the blue sky like a deadly blanket, hear the clashing of swords and screams of pain, and see a discolored figure standing above him. When his vision returned, he saw it was in fact Dimitri who hung over him like a hungry lion.

“Dim...a...”

_This is it. This is the end for me..._

“I... I’m sorry. I- I couldn’t...”

“Spare me your nonsense,” the man growled. With his gaze fixed on the duke, Dimitri raised Areadbhar high above his head as he prepared to take the other’s life. “To the eternal flames with you!”

Claude closed his eyes, ready to face whatever awaited him once the relic pierced his skin. But nothing came. Save for something cold, and wet, splashing over him. He hesitantly opened his eyes again and gasped in horror.

Dimitri stood over him, his body stiff, with Areadbhar held loosely in his grasp. His single eye stared wide in an expression Claude could not identify. Fear? Joy? Surprise? Perhaps a mix of all three, and maybe even many more? But nothing— _ nothing _ —about the prince made Claude feel more sick to his stomach than the blood dribbling down his chin and dripping onto him.

He stared, terrorized, as the mighty prince fell to his knees. The relic was released from his hold and clattered onto the ground beside him. The fire in his eye slowly dimmed before, after only a moment, there was nothing there. Realizing what had just taken place, Claude let out a scream.

Then his eyes finally opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spent the past three days working on this and fixing the inconsistencies in this story.
> 
> I'm begging ya'll, please go back and tell me if certain things don't add up because there have been SEVERAL points where someone died in a very specific way and then THREE CHAPTERS LATER I switched the whole thing up. Y'all are allowed to bully me over this and I HIGHLY encourage you to do so.


	19. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude wakes up in the infirmary.

Claude’s eyes shot open as he flew forward, throwing the sheets off in the midst of his panic. Only when the ache in his head grew unbearable did he let out a hiss and fall back onto the mattress.

Wait... Mattress?

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

The archer turned to see Manuela grabbing a chair and placing it by his bed, sitting on it with a wrap of bandages in her hands. He must’ve been taken to the infirmary after the battle, meaning the horror in Gronder was nothing more than a dream.

Well, more like a memory he wished he could just forget already.

“How long was I out?” he asked.

“Only a few days,” Manuela replied. “Which is surprising considering it was His Highness who struck the blow. That boy’s gone through so many lances, I was worried he had killed you when they brought you in here.”

_ Ah. Right. Dimitri must’ve hit me with his lance during the ‘battle’... _

“Right. Thank you, Professor Manuela, but I really need to-”

“If you’re even thinking about leaving this bed, don’t. Your injury isn’t fatal. That doesn’t mean it’s safe to you to return to your studies and training just yet.” The woman sighed. “I’ve already explained to the professor, and he’ll be delivering your assignments personally to your room after every class. You’ll need at least another three months before we can clear you.”

Claude’s eyes bulged. “Three months?” he cried.

“Yes. Three months” she parroted.

“But-”

“You had a bruise the size of your fist with blood gushing out of your skull, Claude! Be glad we have many priests here who excel in white magic, or you’d be in bed until the end of the year!”

Manuela reached over the bedding, pulling away at the blood-soaked bandages covering Claude’s forehead to reveal a large scar running from the edge of his frontal lobe down to just above his left temple. Raising her hand over the injury Manuela used a healing spell to care for it, though the magic would only work temporarily for the bone and muscle to rejuvenate so it could heal over naturally. When she was done, she stepped away to grab a white cloth and soak it with some mixture in a vial by the bed. She wiped at the scar a few times before setting the cloth down and rebandaging Claude’s head.

She smiled at her handy work and stepped back. “Now that that’s done, I need to check on the Blue Lions. The professor should be here to bring you your work and take you to your room.  _ Don’t _ try sneaking out.”

With that said and done, Manuela walked away and out of the room leaving Claude to his own devices. The archer was immediately filled with panic as the news began to register in his mind.

No. No no no, this was bad. He couldn’t be bed ridden for three months! What about Remire Village? And Captain Jeralt? What about Kronya and Byleth’s transformation? What about Edelgard’s reveal as the Flame Emperor? He won’t be there to stop any of it! To change anything! How could he have let this happen?

Claude let out a groan as his hands flew to rub furiously at his eyes, tears threatening to escape at the thought of letting everything go to shit  _ again _ . He couldn’t afford to let things get out of hand. He had to save the captain, he had to save the professor,  _ he had to _ -

A knock at the door brought Claude back to his surroundings, and he shouted a quick “come in!”.

The door opened to reveal Byleth with a book and some paper, likely the notes he missed, and the other man’s eyes immediately falling to the bandages around his head. He sighed.

“It was that bad, huh?”

Claude scoffed. “Nah, Teach, I’m all good. Just a slight head injury. Nothin’ to worry about.”

“Claude. I told you to pull back if you felt like you couldn’t handle it.”

“That...” He bit his lip. “That’s not what it was. Alright?”

Byleth frowned in response, walking closer to the bed and occupying the seat Manuela held not too long ago. He placed the book and papers down on the nightstand and crossed his arms like a scolding mother.

“Then what was it?” he asked. “You completely blanked out in your fight with Dimitri. If it wasn’t because of the war, then what happened?”

“I... Okay, it was kind of because of the war, but it’s alright! See, I’m alive, aren’t I?”

His teacher said nothing. His stern face did not fade, nor soften, but no lecture came either. Claude felt lucky in that regard at least. The other Byleth would’ve thrown a fit over the archer putting himself in danger like that. But this one, this Byleth, only let out a heavy sigh as his tense body relaxed in what Claude could only read as disappointment mixed with frustration.

“Fine. But I still want an explanation.”

Again, Claude felt hesitant. He had, of course, told many things to the professor: how the war started, the five years before he reappeared out of thin air, the war and their battles. But never had he told the man how any of those things made him feel. The ex-mercenary only assumed as he himself had lived through battle and seen what it’d done to his father’s men.

It would be the first time since Claude came to this world that he opened up to anyone about such things.

Finding it better than shrugging it off again, Claude told Byleth everything.

He told him of the memories that would flash during the fight. How he saw Bernadetta in the flames, the images of a mad prince tearing through Alliance and Imperial soldiers alike, and, finally, the scene that came when he faced off against Dimitri.

His body began to quiver as he recounted the bloody battle he witnessed in his dream when he was knocked unconscious. The corpses, the fire, the screams. Everything up to watching the royal refugee be impaled right before his very eyes, him screaming into the ash-filled air, before he woke up.

By the end of it all, Claude found himself sobbing in front of his professor. He didn’t bother to look at the man through any of it, afraid his resolve would crumble, but he was grateful when Byleth carefully wrapped his arms around him in comfort. He grasped the man’s cloak as he cried endlessly into the crook of his neck and mourned for his fallen friends.

When he finally settled down, Byleth created some distance, but did not let go in case he still needed him. It was Claude who broke the embrace in its entirety. He rubbed at his eyes, which now started to burn, and all over his face to fix his appearance. He must look like a child, now. How utterly embarrassing... 

“Thank you,” he muttered. “I... I haven’t said anything since I came here. And I... I guess it just became too much.” He let out a dry laugh at the end, doing his best to smile at the professor.

Byleth shook his head. “You have already told me of what waits for us in the future. You don’t need to hide these things from me, Claude. I may be your professor, but I’m also your friend. You can rely on me.”

Friend...

_ “When I first saw you wield the Sword of the Creator, I wanted to use your power to my advantage. I wanted to use you to make my dream of a new world come true. But before long, I realized what I really wanted was to see that new world...with you by my side.” _

Right. He had made friends with the professor during his time at the academy. He had never even known it, but soon he started to consider Byleth his friend. His companion. Someone he can truly rely on when times grew tough. It was why he had faith in him during the war, why he confided in him after Dimitri’s death. He trusted Byleth then, and he knew he could trust him now.

“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kept it all a secret,” he said. “I just didn’t know if I could afford to really let my guard down. But... I think I’ve got it now.”

Byleth smiled. “So you’ll come to me from now on whenever you need it, yes?”

He took a moment to think. “...Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

“Good. In that case, we need to make plans for what to do while you’re absent from missions. You said last month that something would happen when we went to investigate Remire Village this month, correct?”

Claude nodded. “Yeah. But there’s not much I can do just stuck in bed. If we’re not careful, nothing will change from how it all went down before.”

_ And you’ll still lose your father... _ Claude left out. He knew it was important for Byleth to know, but he didn’t want to worry him just yet. Perhaps when they would make their plans later.

“I’m sure we can figure that out some other time. We still have three full weeks until the mission. So for now, just rest.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am. Now come, we should return you to your room.”

Claude followed Byleth’s lead as they left the infirmary. His legs felt like jelly from being in bed for so long, but like a newborn fawn he found his footing very quickly with help from the professor. They made it all the way to the nobility’s dorms and, finally, to Claude’s room.

The professor left the book and papers on his desk—but not before quickly complaining about how messy the place was—and left Claude with a promise to return during their usual time to discuss their plans. The archer bid his professor goodbye from his seat on the bed, watching in silence as he closed the door and walked down the hall. Now, with some alone time, he could finally get his thoughts together-

_ Knock! Knock! _

Claude’s head shot up towards the door.  _ Oh come the fuck on! _

Witholding a sigh, and more importantly a venomous tone, he shouted, “Door’s unlocked!”

He had expected one of his Deer to walk through the door. Perhaps Hilda or Lorenz, maybe both, coming to playfully mock him while still making sure he was alright. Maybe it’d be Ignatz and Raphael checking on his condition. Or Marianne who was finally starting to socialize more, or Leonie and Lysithea to scold him for being so reckless. But no. It was none of them.

Instead, a pair of blue eyes wearing heavy bags shone with worry and a usually charming grin was pulled into an anxious frown. Dimitri had come to visit him: the very last person he wanted to see him like this.

“Claude! Thank the goddess you’re alright!” he cried.

“Dimitri? Wha-... What are you doing here?”

“Annette said she saw you and the professor walking towards the dorms, so I assumed you’d be in here for the rest of your recovery,” he explained. “Had I had known you weren’t going to dodge, I promise you, I wouldn’t have swung so hard-!”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, big guy. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Not entirely a lie. After all, who could blame Dimitri when it was Claude who suddenly started spacing out. “I just uh... Kinda blanked out a little. Besides, I’m perfectly fine, see?”

Like Byleth, Dimitri also frowned at Claude’s insistence. “I’m afraid I have to disagree. There... There was a lot of blood, and I... I thought I...” Dimitri took a pause to sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t quite have control of my strength yet, but it will never happen again. You have my word.”

_ Was he always this apologetic?  _ Claude wondered. Not that it was a bad thing, but it only made the archer’s guilt eat him up even more.

“No, seriously, it’s alright. If anything, it’s my fault. Teach told me if I started remembering things again to back out, and I didn’t listen. So if anyone’s to blame for this thing-” He pointed to the wrappings on his head. “-it’s me. Ya got that?”

“What things?”

“What?”

“You said the professor told you to pull out of the fight if you ‘started remembering things’. What things specifically?”

Shit, did he really say that out loud?

“I uh... I-It’s nothing, really-”

“ _ Claude _ .”

“Just... Well, things that make it hard to fight. That’s all. Nothing serious.”

A silence filled the air, and the aura in the room had completely shifted. Claude saw as the prince’s eyes turned from worried to stern as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer. His movement was swift, and his height advantage worked to make him more intimidating when he crossed his arms and scowled at the archer. Claude could only look back anxiously.

“Claude, I don’t appreciate how often you try to belittle your feelings as if they are something that can just... _ disappear _ ,” the prince said earnestly. “I have a very similar experience in battle. I promise, whatever it is you’re going through, there is no room for me to judge. I simply wish to help you. Isn’t that what we agreed to? Helping one another as leaders and future allies?”

_ Gods, I hate that he’s doing this to me right now... I can’t just tell him can I? _

“Well, I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that,” he replied.  _ Please just stop asking. Please just stop asking.  _ “Besides. If I tell you, you’d think I’m crazy.”

Dimitri shook his head. “Even if that is the case, I promise not to tell a soul. You have my word, Claude. Anything you say will not leave this room without your permission.”

Claude hated this. He hated everything about this. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the _thump_ _badump_ of it ringing in his ears, and his breathing became more erratic by the second. He was nervous, afraid, and altogether just wanting this conversation to end. He didn’t want to tell Dimitri. It’d ruin the whole plan! The only other person he could truly count on was Byleth. That was what he promised himself through all of this. Him and Byleth would fix things, and everyone would be none the wiser. It was better off that way...

Wasn’t it?

He had to think. What if he did tell the prince? Well, one of several things.

One: he’d think Claude really was crazy, chalk it up to brain damage from the injury, and leave the whole thing alone. That was honestly what the archer was hoping for if he truly decided to tell the truth.

Two: Dimitri would start questioning him a little too much, and the more Claude revealed the more he was afraid he’d be putting at risk. If the prince acted out too soon, it could all be over.

Three: Dimitri would have faith in him, trust him, and join him and Byleth to take down the Empire. It was a hopeful outcome, the only one giving Claude any true reason other than to be left alone to tell him, but the second option was too much of a risk.

Dimitri waited expectantly for his answer, and Claude was never one to disappoint. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, his green eyes lifted to meet the prince’s sapphire blue ones and he bit his lip. It was now or never.

“Fine. You want the truth?” he asked.

Dimitri paused before answering, “Yes. I do.”

“And everything I say stays between us, right?”

“Of course. On my honor, I will take whatever information you give me to my grave.”

A little extreme, but fair enough. Claude sighed again, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back to the prince.

“The truth is, Dimitri,” he said, his gaze never leaving that of the other house leader’s, “that I’m not the Claude you know.”

Confusion riddle the blond’s face. He unfolded his arms to stare at the archer. “What... What do you mean?”

“What I mean is: I’m not the same Claude you met at the beginning of the year. I’m not the Claude who was all smiles and pretty words to distract you from what I was  _ really _ planning. I’m not the Claude you know.”

He was sure Dimitri was more than confused, but the look in his eyes also gave away his fear. He narrowed them at Claude. “Then who are you?”

A light chuckle emitted from his lips, and the archer stood to his feet. He stretched his hand out in greeting to the prince in a final action to remove the mask he’d been wearing. This was what he wanted, to know the truth, and Claude was prepared to give it to him.

“The name’s King Khalid von Riegan, leader of Almyra and royal consort to Archbishop Byleth Eisner,” he said. “More importantly: I’m from the future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: most mild head traumas take at least three to six months to recover. And considering how strong Dimitri is, and the fact he used a steel weapon, Claude would have been a graduate for almost a year by the time he fully recovered. Isn't science fun?
> 
> Also: OVER 6K HITS!?!? MAN I LOVE YOU GUYS-  
> Seriously, thank you so much for your support. I really appreciate it.
> 
> If you guys want more of my content besides Dimiclaude or Ferdibert (I promise I'll get to that one as soon as I can Ihaven'tforgottenIpromise-), I have another fic here called "Experiment #???" featuring my two OCs: Tamitheos and Clover. So feel free to check that one out too!
> 
> See ya'll next time.


	20. Welcome to the Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude reveals himself to Dimitri, and the two work with Byleth to come up with a plan to help Remire.

Claude von Riegan was guilty of many things.

The future duke was well-known for his schemes and tricks, his sly smile and polite words, and, above all, his secrecy. Dimitri was not new to the rumors when it came to his fellow house leader for he’s heard hundreds of theories.

But to hear it all straight from the horse’s mouth was something else entirely.

The prince was frozen, staring back into those vibrant green eyes that bore into his soul. His mouth was agape as he tried to find the right words to say.

“You... This is a _joke_ , right? Or at least some kind of prank.” He didn’t know who he was addressing then: himself or Claude. “If it is, this isn’t the time. Tell me the truth.”

“That _is_ the truth, Dimitri,” Claude said.

“But... That’s impossible! You can’t be... That shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn’t be possible? Shouldn’t be able to happen? Yeah, I thought so too,” the other laughed. “One moment I’m just coming back from Almyra with good ol’ Teach, and the next I’m a teenager in a not-so-destroyed monastery again. Crazy, huh?”

Dimitri furrowed his brows together. “Prove it then.”

If the boy’s bulging eyes and tensed pose were any indication, Claude seemed surprised by his response. Good. Dimitri didn’t want to believe him, but if he could prove his claim then it’d be undeniable. But still, the possibility of it... There was just no way, right? Time travel couldn’t be real. It defied any and all logic. This had to be some twisted joke.

“You...want me to prove that I’m from the future?”

“Yes,” he said. “Starting with the professor. How does he become the archbishop?”

Claude’s body relaxed as he visibly exhaled. Stretching with his hands behind his head in classic Claude fashion, the other leader answered, “Well, there’s a huge war, and Rhea is held hostage by the enemy. She was too weak to run the Church anymore, and everyone kinda collectively agreed she didn’t deserve the power, so they elected Teach in her place.”

He supposed that would make sense. But he couldn’t help asking, “A war?”

The archer nodded. “Yeah. A pretty devastating one.” A woeful look flashed across Claude’s features. “A lot of people didn’t make it.”

Dimitri had seen that expression before. When he spoke to Claude under the gazebo, he wore that same look. Panic and sorrow combined into one. It made something twist inside his chest—guilt, perhaps, for bringing such bad memories to the surface—but it still wasn’t enough to convince him.

“My apologies,” he said. “But... I’m afraid it’ll take more than that to convince me your claim is true.”

There was a pause. Claude’s expression didn’t change, though for a moment the prince could see frustration behind those glimmering emeralds of his, and the archer sighed.

“Alright. Think of it this way then: how do you think we managed to quickly find out where Flayn was?” he asked. “And before you suggest it: Teach only asked three people in the whole monastery where she could possibly be, and none of them once mentioned Jeritza had her.”

Dimitri took a minute to himself, considering every possibility. In the end he came up empty handed. He pressed his lips into a thin line.

“You have a point there.”

Claude smiled, feeling pleased. “And Lonato: without my help, we never would have reached him before Catherine got to him first. Not to mention the incident in the Holy Mausoleum, and Sylvain wouldn’t have gotten his heirloom back if I didn’t know Rhea planned to confiscate it.”

Now the odds were stacked against him. Claude was right: how could he have possibly known any of these things were going to happen? That is, unless, he’s already lived through them. Before, Dimitri had always thought it was the professor behind such discoveries. But for it to be Claude...

The prince’s eyes stared at him, wide with shock, as he slapped his palm against his mouth.

“You... You really are from the future, aren’t you?”

Claude—no, Dimitri supposed he was Khalid now—nodded. He gave the prince a playful grin as he turned his gaze away. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “It kind of sucks, leaving all that hard work behind, but there’s nothin’ much I can really do about it, you know?”

“But I don’t understand. How were you able to come back? You said there was a war, and you’ve clearly survived it. Why would you come back after all of that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, your princeliness.” Khalid ran a hand through his unruly hair, untouched since he had woken up. “Like I said: the last thing I remember before waking up in my old bed in this body was coming back to the monastery from my visit to Almyra with Teach.”

Right. He did say that...

“And I’m assuming you were with him because...you’re married. That’s what you said, correct?”

With no hesitation, the other answered, “Bingo.”

“But...” _Should I even ask?_ , he wondered. _Is it my business to ask?_ “Don’t you want to go back then? To see him again?”

Khalid shrugged. “Don’t know if I can. So, in the meantime, I’m making it my business to end the war before it starts. With Teach’s help, of course.”

_That explains the frequent going out..._

Of course Dimitri knew Claude would sneak out once a month every night. The prince was hardly ever able to get proper rest, and sometimes would wander aimlessly around the empty halls of the monastery. It was almost always during the first week of every month he would spot a familiar flash of gold rush by and into Byleth’s room. He had been curious as to why and just what they were up to—and knowing Claude it couldn’t be good—but now it all made sense.

“So you’re working with the professor?” he asked.

“Pretty much. But he doesn’t know nearly as much as you do. So uh... Please refrain from telling him we were married. It’d just make things awkward.”

Dimitri’s muscles went rigid. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Khalid couldn’t hold back his grin. “Well, I can’t just let you walk away free now that you know all of this, can I? I want you to help us.”

“Help you?”

“I’m kind of stuck in bed until Manuela decides I’m good, but that won’t be for another three months. We don’t have the luxury to wait that long to act,” he explained. “Just stay until Teach arrives, and I’ll explain the rest. Deal?”

Should he?

Dimitri wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, or if he would really have anything to contribute. The professor was a masterful tactician, and Khalid already knew their fates. What did he have to offer?

Regardless, the latter was placing his faith in him. It was the least he could do in return.

“Alright,” he said. “When will he return?”

“Tonight, once everyone is asleep. That’s not for another few hours, though. So feel free to head back to your room and get into something more comfortable. We’re gonna take awhile.”

The prince nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I don’t doubt it,” the other replied.

Then, Dimitri quickly excused himself and made his way back to his own dorm. It wasn’t too far off from Khalid’s, but he had to be careful when he returned later. For now, he went inside, closing the door, and dressed down until he was only in his white undershirt and boxers. He searched the room for his cotton pants and, when he finally put them on, rushed back to Khalid’s room. Nothing had changed in his absence, but it was all beginning to feel like a dream.

The only thing left to do was wait.

* * *

During their wait, Dimitri asked Claude questions about the future. What the war was like, who survived and who had fallen, and, of course, Claude took caution in what he told the prince. He still wanted to protect him, to keep him from finding out about Edelgard until he had more time to explain, or everything would be for not.

The archer had expected his professor’s confused expression when he walked into the room and saw Dimitri sitting on the bed with him. Claude quickly got him up to speed, and now the three sat with a map of Fodlan between them.

“The next mission takes place in Remire,” Claude explained. “As we all know, the people there have been acting strange. But I know the real reason why they’re going crazy, and I promise it isn’t some kind of disease.”

Byleth nodded. “The Agarthans, I’m assuming,” he said.

“And right you are, Teach.”

“What do you propose they’re doing?” the prince asked. “How could they possibly benefit from attacking a village as small as Remire?”

Claude turned to him. “They’re still a secret group at this point, not yet officially affiliated with the Empire, and they need a remote location to do their experiments. Remire is small and isolated enough where they thought no one would notice, but I’m guessing they didn’t think of the merchants who would visit the town.”

“The experiments with Crests,” Byleth said. “I remember you told me something about that. How they use Crest Stones to turn people into demonic beasts like we saw with Miklan. But this isn’t what’s happening here, is it?”

“Right. That’s not for a whole other month. Which brings me to my plan.”

Dimitri frowned. “But how will you do anything if you’re bedridden, Khalid?”

Claude flushed hearing his name from the prince, but played it off with his signature grin. “You can still address me as ‘Claude’, you know. But I won’t stop you if you wanna call me by my actual name. Just not around the others, alright?” He held back a bubbly laugh as Dimitri’s cheeks turned a bright crimson. “Anyway, that’s entirely a part of the idea. While I’m stuck here, you two can complete the missions and give me any updates.”

“That’s...not a bad idea.” Dimitri hummed, deep in thought. “In fact, I can have the Blue Lions join the Deer in their missions. I’m sure Professor Manuela wouldn’t mind as she’s still recovering from the Death Knight incident. It’ll provide more combat experience.”

“I doubt the Academy, especially Seteth, would allow two classes to become one,” Byleth pointed out.

“Well, you can always ask Manuela to join the Deer,” Claude suggested. “Hanneman too, so we at least have some eyes in the Black Eagles’s house.”

The professor gave a nod. “I will try my best.”

“Good. Then the rest is up to the two of you. Try to protect the villagers, but don’t kill the infected if you can help it. I’m sure Yuri wouldn’t mind keeping a few more people underneath the monastery.” A look from Dimitri made Claude nervous. In their talk, he had completely forgotten to tell him about the plan with Jeritza. That would have to be for some other day, however. “Oh, one last thing: Tomas will reveal himself when you guys reach the village. He won’t do much, but stay on your guard.”

“Understood.”

With that, Byleth grabbed his things and bid the house leaders a good night. Dimitri, too, left after making sure Claude would be alright with his head injury—it was a super sweet gesture, he thought, when the blond offered to change his bandages for him, even if there were none in the room—before heading back to his own room further down the hall. The prince also offered to be there the moment he hollered if he ever needed something. Dimitri shut the door on his way out, the sound of footsteps echoing in the hall the only indication that he actually left.

Claude was finally alone again.

The archer let out a heavy sigh. Moving all the books scattered around, he laid in bed with his head propped up with a pillow and some extra sheets he had to tend to the dull ache in his skull. The prince sure did a number on him...

Closing his eyes, Claude allowed himself to drift off into a deep slumber when one last thought came to him just before passing out into darkness.

They had to do something about Kronya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i go sleep now bye-
> 
> Edit: I completely forgot Jeritza was captured so I had to fix a line. Omfg I'm so stupid


	21. Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Claude missing in action, it's up to Byleth to guide Dimitri through their plan.

When the sun rose over the horizon again, and the bustling sound of people echoed through the halls of the monastery, Byleth made his way towards the library to bring some medical eyedrops to Linhardt—and recruit him into the Golden Deer classroom—when he found the prince speaking to a strange man in the entrance hall of the monastery.

Keeping his distance, he tuned in to the conversation.

“I see. So you’ll be staying here for some time, then.” The prince crossed his arms. “Honestly, I’m surprised. I’ve heard it’s been a few years since you last donated to the church.”

The man shook his head. “That was merely because of the financial situation of my territory. I assure you, it has nothing to do with my dedication to the church. By the way, Dimitri... Isn’t Edelgard currently enrolled at the Officer’s Academy as well?”

**“Why would he be looking for Edelgard?”**

_Your guess is as good as mine..._

“Yes. She’s in the Black Eagle House. I don’t believe she has any plans to leave anytime soon. Why not pay her a visit?”

“I may do just that,” the other replied, smiling. But there was just something about the man that unsettled the professor. Byleth continued to watch the scene, silent and careful. “It’s nice to stay in touch with my dear niece every now and then. Of course, I’m also delighted that I was able to speak with my nephew, as well. Whether through marriage or otherwise, family is family, after all.”

Wait. Did he just say-

**“THAT GUY IS DIMITRI’S UNCLE?”**

_Sothis, please... I’m trying to listen._

**“No, Byleth, you don’t understand. This could only mean-”**

“Professor!” Dimitri’s voice rang in Byleth’s ear, distracting him from Sothis’s rant. “If you were watching, you should have made your presence known.”

“My apologies. I was on my way to the library when I saw you and that man talking, and I was curious,” he replied. Byleth’s gaze moved behind the prince where he saw the man walk further up the carpeted stairs of the hall. “Who was that?”

“That was Lord Arundel, the Regent for the Empire. He is also Edelgard’s uncle.”

“...He called you his nephew.”

Dimitri’s eyes fell. “My stepmother was his younger sister. We are not related by blood, but he is technically my uncle.”

“So that would make you and Edelgard...”

He nodded. “Yes. She was also Edelgard’s birth mother. Edelgard and I are siblings by marriage.”

_Of course..._

“Yes. I remember now—Claude told me about that when we were discussing the war.” Byleth’s lips fell into a frown. “If that is the case, then there is something you must know. _If_ you truly intend on helping us save Fodlan.”

Something sparked in those azulean eyes of the prince, something Byleth could only guess was jealousy. Perhaps he should have worded the sentence differently. No matter.

“Does it have something to do with Remire?”

“Something like that. We’ll discuss more later. For now,” he said, “there’s something very important we need to do.”

Dimitri gave a firm nod to the older man. “Of course. Lead the way, professor.”

Byleth gestured for the prince to follow, and as he led the teen around the monastery he made a mental note to tell Claude of their encounter with Arundel. He recalled the conversation well. Whether or not the man he just saw in the hall was truly Edelgard’s uncle was something Claude had never clarified, for he himself wasn’t sure. The archer explained to the professor his theory that it was actually Thales in disguise, having killed off the Regent and replacing him—which actually did explain the disappearance Dimitri spoke of—but whether or not it was true was still up for debate.

Either way, it was something to report.

First, Byleth completed his mission of exchanging items until he could give the whetstone to Shamir in exchange for a silver bow and some black-sand steel. He also managed to convince Linhardt to speak with Seteth about transferring classes and, to his surprise, the boy offered to convince Caspar to do the same—two more students under his care.

With that done, Byleth then escorted Dimitri towards the dorms where the mysterious merchant waited for them. Claude had told Byleth this was the only way to enter the secret underground society known as Abyss.

Byleth approached the merchant. “Excuse me. I don’t mean to bother you,” he said, “but we need you to lead us to Abyss.”

The merchant examined them, scoffing. “First that brat, and now you two. Are ya’ll in cahoots or somethin’?”

“You could say that... We need to speak with Yuri. It’s urgent.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. Right this way.”

The professor and prince followed the man through the alley until they reached the entrance to Abyss. The cloaked man motioned towards the dimly lit passageway that descended further and further away from the surface of the monastery.

“Just down that. Ya can’t miss it.”

Byleth turned to him, nodding in thanks. The merchant then left the two to their own devices. The professor turned to the prince.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.

He didn’t miss the way Dimitri bit his lip, eyeing the path ahead cautiously. After a moment he answered, “Yes. If this will help you and Claude, I’m prepared for anything.”

The ex-mercenary smiled at that. “Good. Then let’s go.”

Byleth began walking down into the dark depths of the underground, Dimitri following close behind him. At most they had a few hours before anyone would find their disappearance suspicious. They needed to hurry and find Yuri.

* * *

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite little professor!” Yuri’s gaze shifted from Byleth to Dimitri, who was staring in fascination with...everything. “And he’s brought His Highness, hm? What an interesting surprise.”

“We’ve told him all he needs to know,” Byleth informed the other.

“Of course. And I’m assuming you’re here for the big guy, right?”

Byleth nodded, earning a smirk from the Abyssian. “Perfect. Right this way.”

Yuri turned on his heel and led the two through the streets of Abyss. Everywhere they turned, people were bustling about. In one corner, a group of thieves and brigands playing dice and making bets. In another, children played pretend as knights and mages fighting in a fake battle. Something was always happening. Byleth supposed that was what made this place so lively despite its depressing purpose.

On their way to Jeritza’s holding chamber, Dimitri asked Yuri questions about his home. The Abyssian answered as much as he could, but when Byleth threw him a dark look he knew to avoid the subject—which he was surprisingly good at. The professor understood there were some things Dimitri just shouldn’t know. Not yet.

They stopped in front of a door, having traveled even deeper than where Abyss was, and watched as Yuri revealed a key from his pocket before unlocking the door and pushing it open. The three of them stepped inside to see Jeritza sitting at the other end of the small room. There was candlelight by the door and where he was chained, illuminating the stone walls as the flames flickered about. Yuri turned to the professor.

“He’s all yours. Let me know when you’re done,” he said.

“Will do. Thank you, Yuri.”

“Not a problem,” the other replied. “Anything for someone as cute as you.”

The wink that followed left the professor blushing, something he promptly ignored as he walked further into the room. He had barely known the man for a minute, having not spoken to him since the Death Knight’s capture, and yet he’s already managed to get under his skin. He’s like Claude, but more flirtatious.

**“Are you sure you’re not just a little too susceptible to their charms?”**

_Sothis, I swear-_

She tutted. **“Eyes on the prize, Byleth.”**

Right. They had work to get done.

Byleth approached the knight, not nearly as hesitant about it as the prince behind him, and sea green eyes met cerulean blue. Jeritza let out a hum.

“So you haven’t left me with these children?” he asked.

“It’s the safest option to keep you here,” the professor replied.

“Professor,” squeaked Dimitri. “Why... Why is Professor Jeritza _down_ here? I thought he escaped when you rescued Flayn.”

_So Claude didn’t tell him._

“I’m not sure what Claude’s planning to do with him, but he didn’t want him back in the hands of the Flame Emperor. So we’ve kept him locked up here with Yuri’s help.”

Dimitri frowned. “So... We’re interrogating him?”

A nod from the teacher was his only answer before Byleth returned his focus to the knight in front of them.

“We just have a few questions.”

“I do not know much,” the man said.

“Then you will tell us what you _do_ know.”

Byleth saw the slightest hint of a fire in the other man’s eyes. He knew he was challenging him, and the other was accepting it. With a sigh, Jeritza closed his eyes, breaking all eye contact with the professor.

“What is it then?”

“The Flame Emperor likely knows we’re on to them,” he replied. “Do you know when they plan to attack?”

Jeritza shook his head. “I do not know. The end of the year was the original idea, but...” There was a long pause. “...I know not if they have changed their strategy. I cannot help you.”

Byleth didn’t believe that was all he knew, but he didn’t want to push it. Likely, if he didn’t have an answer, Claude did. He’d just report what they learn and go from there. But, just as he planned to step back, Dimitri got closer to the knight.

“Isn’t there anything else you can tell us?” he asked, his voice frantic and echoing off the stone walls. “Anything at all that can help us stop the Flame Emperor?”

Again, he shook his head. “No. I know nothing else.”

“Then why did they have you on their side? Why would you agree to join them?” the prince growled.

Byleth’s brows knit together, concern laced in his tone as he told the blond, “Dimitri, calm down. Whatever we need to know, we’ll get the information. Somehow.”

Dimitri turned to him, his expression a mix of disappointment and underlying rage. He was becoming desperate to find out anything he could. Byleth was beginning to question Claude’s decision in allowing him to join them. If just Jeritza was setting him off, how long did they have before he lost his sanity when the Flame Emperor’s identity was revealed to everyone?

The professor gave his own stern expression, placing his foot down before any damage could be done. A sigh escaping the prince’s lips was all Byleth needed to move forward. With Dimitri calm again, they could get this done and over with.

“Jeritza,” he said. “Are you certain you’ve told us all that you know?”

A nod came from the knight. “I did not care what they planned to do,” he answered. “Just that I was given permission to fight.”

 **“I don’t think we’ll get anywhere with him. It’s best to ask the boy,”** Sothis muttered.

_Agreed._

Byleth removed his gaze from Jeritza to instead glance at Dimitri. “We won’t get much more out of him. It’s better if we leave now before someone notices our absence.”

The prince hummed. “Of course.”

With that, the two left the room. Yuri locked the door behind them before guiding them back to Abyss. He bid the duo farewell, for he had other things to tend to, but not before sending one last flirtatious remark to the professor. Byleth tried his best to ignore the other’s advances—not that he was complaining, though.

Byleth and Dimitri made their way back up to the surface, the silence between them heavier than any axe or sword they’ve wielded. Every time the professor looked back at the prince, there was a lingering question that would refuse to come out. It was beginning to grow awkward.

Just as they almost made it out of the dark cavern leading down into the underground society, Byleth sighed. “Your face looks pregnant.”

He could almost see the confusion on the other’s face. “I... I-I’m sorry, what?”

“You look like you want to ask me something,” he clarified.

“Ah. Well...” The professor stopped in his tracks, turning on his heel to face the prince. “I... I wanted to know if Claude’s ever told you their identity. The Flame Emperor’s, I mean.”

_...Shit._

“Why would he?”

“You two have clearly been working on this far longer than I have with either of you. Surely you know something as well?”

Shit. Shit. Shit! What was he supposed to do now?

If he told Dimitri who the Flame Emperor was, there was no guarantee he would react well. But if he said nothing, it’d only look more suspicious. There was only one other option left, and he hated to do it.

“No,” he said. “If Claude ever knew anything, he hasn’t told me.”

That same look of disappointment spread across the teen’s face, and those blue eyes fell to the floor. “Ah. I see. My mistake, then.”

“If that is all, let us move forward.”

“R-Right.”

They continued their way up the messy slope, their footsteps echoing through the cavern. The silence settled in again and the two said nothing for some time.

Then, again, the prince’s voice came, “Actually, there is one more thing I wanted to ask.”

“Okay.”

Instead of an answer—well, it would actually be a question, wouldn’t it?—Byleth only heard Dimitri’s steps falter. He stopped, turned, and looked curiously at the prince. The boy refused to meet his gaze, however, and stared at the ground beneath his feet.

“...Dimitri?” he asked.

“I... I’m not sure how to word this properly. I-I’m sorry, professor, I-”

“Do not apologize,” the man said. “Just let it out.”

“...Are you certain?”

 **“Byleth,”** Sothis cutted in. **“I have a bad feeling about this.”**

“...I’m positive, your highness. I won’t be offended by questions.”

A third pause followed, and Byleth was suddenly not so comfortable with the quiet anymore. The air was so thin you could cut it with a knife and it was clear the prince felt just as cramped in the narrow cavern. For a second, it looked like he wouldn’t say anything at all, and Byleth was fully prepared to turn back around and continue their way back to the surface.

But then Dimitri lifted his gaze, his eyes burning with anxious determination, before finally asking, “Professor, I must know, how do you feel about Claude?”

**_"...What?"_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the next chapter, we're getting a Dima-centered update! Woohoo!!!!!!
> 
> Also, in case it wasn't clear: the "what?" at the end is both Byleth and Sothis (indicated by the italic and bold just for future reference).
> 
> Also also, sorry if this doesn't seem like my best. I'm super tired, cramps are a BITCH, and I'm just so physically exhausted by everything.
> 
> Thank the gods my school's giving us a break for Memorial Day. I might just play Assassin's Creed since Nook's Cranny will be closed and I won't be able to sell turnips on my island.


	22. One's Beginning is Another's Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Nader comes to Fodlan searching for answers, Byleth has none to give. But how can he give a solution when he can't even find one?

“What do you mean he disappeared?” the man roared.

Rubbing his temples and leaning with his elbows on the table, Byleth sighed. “I mean he disappeared,” he said. “We’ve sent dozens of search parties after him, looked through every nook and cranny across Fodlan, and nothing. You think I wouldn’t try to find him?”

The last bit came out with more venom than the archbishop intended, but he hoped it still got his point across. He believed Nader would be understanding. That was the only reason he was grateful it was him who showed up instead of one of Claude’s advisors. He could be frustrated around him, and the man felt he was in no way in any mood to “act dignified”. Not after all this time and effort he’s spent only to get threatened with war.

The bear of a man, too, sighed as he flopped back into his seat. “The people won’t be happy about this...”

“I know.”

“They’re not just gonna believe their king up and vanished, Byleth. Almyra is still just as skeptical of your union as Fodlan, I’m sure, and hearing Khalid was just...gone...well-”

“I _know_.”

A dreadful silence hung in the air. Nader’s gaze softened as he looked up at the man. Byleth, disheveled and clearly not at _all_ dressed like an archbishop should. His hair was in tangles, there were deep bags rooted under his eyes.

To think he’s been silent about this for years was nothing less than heartbreaking.

“I’ll deploy a private battalion to start a search party in Almyra,” Nader suggested. “We’ll search the whole country, and any other surrounding nation we know he may have traveled to. Though, I’m sure if the kid could, Khalid would be halfway across the planet if he was determined enough.”

A dry laugh escaped the archbishop. How long had it been since he laughed, even just a little?

“Thank you, Nader.”

A nod followed. “Of course.” The man stood from his seat, walking around the table towards Byleth to place a hand on the other’s shoulder. “We’ll find him, I promise.”

Byleth looked up at him, his eyes, usually so unintentionally cold, were full of what the warrior could only describe as despair. Like he was preparing to give up.

“Nader,” the man spoke, his voice in a low whisper, “what if we don’t find him?”

“We will.”

“And if we don’t? It’s been years. What if... What if he’s...”

Nader frowned. “I’m not too sure, kid. If push comes to shove, then, well, we don’t have much of an option.”

“Who will be left in charge?” the archbishop asked.

“Khalid’s got plenty of brothers who have been more than eager to take the throne,” the warrior answered. “But if you’re wondering if they’ll start a war... Well, I’m sure Queen Tiana would never let that happen.”

If Byleth heard him, he didn’t show it. The man’s face was buried deep in his hands. He looked tired and beaten, and for the first in a long time did Nader feel helpless. Him—Nader the Undefeated—was...defeated. Unable to help the grieving man before him. He himself was unsure what to do, if Claude could ever be found, so how could he possibly help someone else?

Letting out another sigh, the famed warrior said, “For what it’s worth: I’m sorry. We’ll do everything we can.”

“Right, of course... Thank you...”

Nader left without another word. Byleth was alone in his office, pondering what to do next. He rubbed at his tired, sunken eyes before turning to the clock on the wall. It was well past noon. He still had a whole day ahead of him. Except there was nothing to really do. He didn’t have another meeting for another few weeks. When it came to relations in each territory of Fodlan, it was usually Seteth who got involved. Only during trials, international affairs, or calls for new leaders did everyone truly need the archbishop’s presence.

A knock came at the door, disrupting Byleht’s thoughts, and the man called for the person on the other side to enter.

Stepping in was none other than Yuri, offering the tiniest smile to the exhausted leader. Byleth managed one in return.

“How did it go?” the other asked.

“About as well as one would expect,” he answered. “Nader was like an uncle to the army during our siege of the Empire. Including me.”

“Yeah. Didn’t have much time to talk to the guy, unfortunately, but I’m guessing that’s a good thing then?”

Byleth nodded. “He understood perfectly, but there are still things that need to be done for Almyra’s sake. We doubt there’ll be war. But, for the time being, he’s volunteered to search Almyra and beyond its borders.”

Yuri’s smile grew. “Well, on the bright side, that leaves us with enough time to focus on Fodlan’s needs.”

“I do not have much to do, however.”

“Is that a complaint I hear?” the thief joked.

A sigh escaped the archbishop’s lips. “If I try to get myself involved with smaller affairs, Seteth will lecture me on taking a break so I can process...well, everything.”

“He does have a point. Just look at you, By.” Yuri moved closer, gently cupping his ex-professor’s face and rubbing just beneath his glistening, green eyes with his thumb. “You’ve got eye bags under your eye bags. I’ve never seen you this stressed before. Not even when grading Balthus’s exams.”

Byleth chuckled, his mood brightening ever so slightly. He knew Yuri was just saying such things to make him laugh. But he had to admit it was really working.

But speaking of the King of Grappling gave Yuri an idea. “I know. Why don’t you just go visit some of your students? I’m sure they’d love to see you, and it’d do wonders to get you out of the monastery.”

The other pondered for a moment. It wasn’t a bad idea. But he wasn’t so sure his students could help themselves in ignoring his disheveled appearance. He hadn’t spoken to many of them since before Claude disappeared. Only through letters, messengers, and Seteth did he ever communicate with them.

But if it gave him a chance to do something and get away from it all, then he was more than down for it.

“That sounds nice,” he replied. “Perhaps first thing tomorrow I’ll fly down to Enbarr and see how Dorothea and Ferdinand are doing.”

Yuri, happy that the archbishop was considering taking a vacation for the first time in years, added, “Agreed. Then you can visit the Kingdom and Alliance as well, if you’re in the mood to talk to them.”

_The Kingdom..._

The last time Byleth had visited ex-Kingdom territory, he could only remember the solom looks on everyone’s face. Winter was fast approaching, and the idea Dimitri’s soul was growing restless from his grave made him uneasy to say the least. Then the way Claude nearly threw a fit before the man’s gravestone, still beyond furious of what the war had done to him—to all of them...

“Wonderful. It’s settled then.” Byleth stood from his desk, smiling at Yuri. “You’re also more than welcomed to join me. I...haven’t properly thanked you for standing by me all these years while searching for Claude. I apologize.”

Yuri shook his head. “No need for apologies, old friend. Besides, couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’ve still got my people here. Unless...”

“Unless?”

A brief pause followed, the tension suddenly growing thick in the room once again until the thief's smile fell as he sighed. “Nevermind. But don’t be afraid to write if you wanna return early. I’m sure the others will understand.”

“...Right. Of course.”

“Well, I’ll leave ya to pack up. If know where to find me if ya need anything.”

Yuri turned away, waving over his shoulder as he left the room. Byleth soon followed to return to his quarters and pack his things.

* * *

The trip to Faerghus from Enbarr took longer than Byleth had anticipated. Had he taken a carriage rather than go by wyvern, his vacation would be over before he was even halfway done. He had never had to travel to the city of Fhirdiad until sometime after the war. Even then, it was a very straight path from the monastery. When he arrived at the city gates, he couldn’t help but notice the bitter chill that flooded the air around him.

_Strange. It’s midway through summer, and yet..._

“Halt!” called a guard. “Who are you?”

Ah. He had forgotten about his cloak. Pulling back the hood, Byleth stared at the guard. “Byleth Eisner,” he declared. “I’m here to speak with Governors Duran and Galatea.”

A second guard motioned for the first to step-aside, bowing to the archbishop. “Go right ahead, Lord Eisner. They are likely waiting in the castle.”

Byleth nodded in thanks before entering the city. He climbed off his wyvern and led her through the gate into Fhirdiad’s walls.

The fruits of his and Claude’s labor were finally beginning to shine through. Fhirdiad had been devastated in the war, the people left without food and their shelter burned to cinders under Cornealia’s control, but through their reforms did it start to flourish and prosper again. The archbishop noticed more than enough children laughing and playing in the streets, the market bustling with life as he passed through. It brought a smile to the man’s face to see the city doing well again.

He made it to the front steps of the castle with little trouble, announcing his arrival and asking to speak to the governors of the territory. The guards escorted him inside while a squire took his wyvern’s reins to place her in the stables.

One guard broke off to collect Ingrid while the other led Byleth to Ashe’s quarters. They knocked on the governor’s door, which was in turn opened to reveal the famed archer. The man’s smile of which he happily flashed at his professor could rival a thousand suns.

“Professor!” he exclaimed. “Ah- I mean, uh, Lord Byleth. It’s a great honor to-”

“I’m not here with business, Ashe. I’m here as an old friend just...needing some time off.”

The man sighed in relief. “Right. Of course.” He turned to the guard, nodding him in dismissal. When the guard left he returned his focus to the archbishop. “Are things getting too hectic at the monastery?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” the other replied. “Yuri just thought I should visit you all. It’s been sometime since we’ve last gathered, wouldn’t you say?”

“I agree! In that case-”

“Professor? Is that you?”

The two turned to see Ingrid, a warm grin gracing her features.

“It’s great to see you again!” she exclaimed. “Ah, that is, if you aren’t here for personal business.”

Byleth shook his head, smiling in return. “No need to worry about that, Ingrid. As I’ve just told Ashe: I’m here as your professor. Not the leader of the Church.”

“In that case... Will you be joining us for dinner?” she asked.

“...Yes. I’d like that very much.”

* * *

Byleth was amazed to say the least.

Dinner had been as expected. The three of them talked, caught up in news they were excited to share, and avoided topics that would turn their bright mood sour. One thing the man found interesting was Ingrid’s mention of the frozen air.

“As strange as it is, there is little explanation other than the rumors,” she said. “I suppose I could talk to Sylvain to see if he’s experiencing similar weather. If I could even get him out of his manor that is.”

Hearing it all reminded Byleth of Claude’s “joke”. Back during their last visit to the Blue Lion students. Perhaps that was what drew him out of the castle grounds after everyone had retired for the night. What made him venture out to the cemetery and kneel before the familiar, chipped stone he stared at for hours the night before his proposal.

Why had he come out here? What made him return to this spot time and time again?

There was an ache in his chest. One he knew well. He felt it upon his return after those five, long years, and again after Gronder when all that slipped from the mouths of the soldiers was the tragedy that had become the long-lost prince. Then, it came again after the war when Claude had returned from securing his place on the throne, and a fourth time on the day of their wedding.

Guilt. That was the only word he had to describe it.

A laugh slipped past his lips, one as dry as the grass beneath his feet, as he stared at the tombstone before him.

“No one was ever able to collect your body. The field was on fire, everything smelled of burnt flesh, and word spread yours would not make the trip before rotting entirely. So they didn’t bother looking,” he whispered. “Claude was devastated. I’m not sure what you were thinking in your last moments, but I want you to know...” He took a deep breath. “I want you to know he cared for you. Deeply. I...had always known that.”

What was he doing, talking to the wind? Byleth was not raised with the ideals of the Church. Jeralt did not push the idea of an afterlife onto him, and so he wasn’t sure if there ever was a place to go after one died. Even if there was a heaven how could he guarantee the prince could hear him here and now?

Despite this, he went on, tears collecting in his eyes.

“I don’t know what happened to him. I may never know, and it hurts. It hurts to know I will never learn his fate. But, I beg of you, if he is by your side, take care of him for me.” Byleth managed a smile as he turned his gaze to the obituary written within the stone. ‘Beloved friend and king’. The very words his beloved used to describe the fallen prince when the stone was made.

“Tell him I love him, I always will, and no one will ever replace him in my heart. And...” He took a pause, the image of Yuri flashing in his mind. Yuri smiling, laughing, checking in on him nearly every other day. “And I will be taken care of, that he needn’t worry over me. Everyone misses you. Both of you. We... We hope you look well after one another, and you are both resting wherever you are.”

Silence followed. As if he expected anything else. With a sigh, Byleth turned away from the grave. He suddenly felt tired.

“I suppose this is ‘goodbye’, then. At least for now.”

With that, he offered one last glance at the tombstone before walking off. As the archbishop returned to his quarters for the night, he wiped furiously at his tears in fear someone would see him. Fortunately, no one else was roaming the castle grounds at night.

When Byleth went to sleep, he felt a great weight lifted from his chest. But he succumbed to exhaustion before he could make sense of the feeling and had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly filler-turned-accidental-development but fuck it.


	23. A Prince's Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth tells Dimitri the details of his childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title: EMOTIONS FUCKING SUCK

The professor placed a finger to his chin, eyes raised to the ceiling in thought.

“Claude, you say?” he replied. “Well, I do enjoy his company. That is, when he isn’t being a pain. But I assumed most, if not everyone, felt that way towards him. He is a rather charismatic student, wouldn’t you say?”

“W-Well... Yes, but, um... How to say this- uh...” The prince cleared his throat. “I don’t think I made the question clear. Do you have...romantic feelings for Claude, professor?”

That.

That was not expected.

The question made Byleth’s eyes blow open, shock written in every inch of his expression. He, again, thought to himself for a moment before regaining his composure. It was truly silly, in his opinion, to be surprised. The two did act close, after all.

“It would be wrong to be in such a relationship with a student. The dynamic... Well, it doesn’t sit right with me. Not to mention it’s against the rules. And even if that weren’t the case, I’m not sure I can answer that question, Your Highness.”

Byleth turned on his heel, expecting the conversation to end there. Dimitri followed suit as they continued to make their way out of the cavern. However, it seemed the prince would not accept that for an answer.

“How come?” he asked.

The man sighed. “To be quite frank, I’ve...never really understood emotions very well. Nor how I can express them.” He eyed the prince over his shoulder as they walked. “I’m sure you’ve picked that up when the year first began.”

Dimitri’s face flushed in embarrassment. “Ah. Yes. How could I forget... You were quite cold towards many here at the monastery. N-No offense.”

“None taken. Really.”

The two made it out of the cavern, the light of the sun nearly blinding them after the long hours they spent in the darkness of Abyss, and thanked the shady person by the dorms for their help. The professor led Dimitri further away from the entrance and down towards the small garden by the dining hall.

“I’ve only ever felt friendship, I suppose, as well as my father’s love,” he explained. “But I know that is vastly different from falling in love. I’ve never experienced it. All of my relations were purely sexual. Just a few men I met during missions who were too drunk to care, I suppose.”

“Professor... Are you saying you’ve never considered a relationship with those people?” he asked.

Byleth shook his head. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Most of our missions only took a few days to finish. Even if I didn’t sleep with them, they wouldn’t have known me for very long anyway.”

“Then...” The prince’s brows furrowed. “Perhaps, if you had more time to get to know them, would you consider it?”

That...was a good question.

Byleth had never really put much thought into it. He didn’t feel like he had to. He was a mercenary for as long as he could remember, growing up in his father’s platoon. He was only concerned about his family: his father, the other soldiers among their ranks, and now his students. But now that the prince has mentioned it...

“Perhaps. I’ll never truly know until that happens, but I guess I would consider it were I to know the person a little more.”

When Byleth looked at the prince again, he saw satisfaction in his eyes. His body relaxed, a smile etched ever so slightly on his face. It made the professor curious.

“I have a question for you now, Dimitri. Why are you interested in my ‘feelings’ for Claude?”

Dimitri suddenly went rigid again, his body jolting as it stood straight, and his face turned cherry pink.

“W-Why, you ask? Uh, well...” He visibly gulped, eyes darting away from his teacher. “I-I was just curious, is all. You two have been spending a vast amount of time together, after all. I... Well, that is, anyone would be interested in knowing, wouldn’t you say?”

The house leader finished his reply with a laugh, one that couldn’t be more obviously nervous at that. Byleth couldn’t help but hear Sothis sigh beside him.

 **“I hope he realizes he’s better at swinging a lance than he is at lying,”** she mumbled.

Byleth, wanting to act natural as to not raise suspicion, didn’t bother looking in her direction as he asked, _What are you talking about, Sothis?_

 **“Never mind!”** she replied. **“Ugh. You’re both utterly hopeless.”**

Byleth ignored her, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. The professor and Dimitri were both left standing quietly in the small garden. Neither one of them knew what to say next, or if there was anything to say at all.

Then, the professor chirped with a smile, “How about we head to the greenhouse? That way we can have privacy if you wish to talk further.”

It took a moment to get a response, but the prince seemed to agree with a nod. “Yes. That...sounds nice... I suppose...”

* * *

Dimitri didn’t mind the garden too much.

It was a nice, quiet, serene place. Very few ever stepped in, and if they did it wasn’t for very long. Only to admire the plants and flowers before moving on with their day. He knew Dedue liked to spend his leisure time here, and Ashe would sometimes accompany him to help out. Whenever he walked in, it was no wonder why the two enjoyed this place so much.

He just wished the circumstances were different this time around.

Nervously, Dimitri glanced over at the professor, who was tending to some lilacs. They were here, silently caring for the plants and admiring the greenhouse, for sometime. It was only about an hour until dinner was prepared for everyone. Yet, they said nothing to one another.

He suddenly felt it was a bad idea to ask Byleth that question. He didn’t understand why the idea of the professor and Claude together made him feel so... Well, he didn’t know what this feeling was. More accurately, he didn’t want to admit it. He knew it made him anxious, perhaps even a bit angry, but...to be jealous was something else entirely. They weren’t even together! The professor said so himself!

Still, Claude’s voice echoed in his mind like a mantra.

_ “...and royal consort to Archbishop Byleth Eisner.” _

...Royal consort. They were married. And yet, he couldn’t find a single ounce of interest in the professor from the rivaling house leader. Assuming he had any interest at all, and, if he did, he was really good at hiding it. If anything, the other teen seemed to be more interested in getting closer to Dimitri. Well, based on all the time they’ve spent together.

But that couldn’t be possible, could it? Claude having feelings for him? Surely not if he was married in his past life. And the prospect of a war... Would that mean they’ve also faced one another in a genuine battle? One that would determine who lived and who died? Did that mean...

Did he die in Claude’s old life? Were they ever even friends? Or...were they something more-?

_ Ugh! Pull yourself together, Dimitri! You’re being utterly ridiculous! _

It couldn’t possibly be. There was no way him and Claude... No. He’d save this for another time and another place. For now, there was a war they had to stop. That should be his priority. Not some stupid teenage feelings that would, hopefully, go away with time.

The prince sighed as he kneeled closer by the flowerbed to inspect some pansies. There were a grand variety of them growing: purple, red, and yellow all scattered about. He leaned in, cupping underneath one’s petals gently before lifting it up to his nose to take a quick sniff. They smelled wonderful too! That was one thing the prince felt grateful to still have. Though he can’t taste, he felt grateful he was still able to smell all the wonderful things the world had to offer.

“...Professor,” he spoke up, too afraid to turn to his teacher yet not enough to stay quiet any longer, “do you... I mean, I... Can we just forget today ever happened?”

“Alright,” came the other’s reply. “But if you still wish to talk about it, do not hesitate to seek my help. Or anyone else’s if you’re uncomfortable.”

“It isn’t that. I... I just don’t know if...well, with your background, if you can give any advice to uh...aid me in this circumstance.”

A gentle chuckle came from across the room. “A simple crush is nothing to be ashamed of, Dimitri.” Shit! Was he  _ that _ obvious? “And, for the record, I may not have the best experience with romance, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give good advice. But if it’s someone more knowledgeable, may I offer a suggestion?”

The prince’s ears perked up, his head finally turning to face Byleth. “Yes, of course!” he answered.

Byleth, however, was still focused on the lilacs. He cupped the petals gently, observing them as he bounced the flower in his hand.

“Well, I would say Claude has the greatest experience,” he said. “I’m not sure the extent of his relationships, but I’m sure he’s had a few partners in his life.”

Dimitri’s previous excitement, and slight relief, suddenly fell apart. He let out a sigh. “I...don’t think that would work as well as you would hope. Still, thank you.”

Byleth finally, finally, looked back at him. His head was tilted to its side in wonder. “How so?” he asked.

The prince was quick to reply, shaking his head. “Nevermind that. Perhaps we should report back to Claude now. There’s not telling how much time we have left before war is upon us. Every second is to count!”

Without another word, Dimitri stood to his feet and walked out of the greenhouse. Byleth’s eyes followed his movement. The man got up and chased after him. He supposed there would have to be time for this talk later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You either automatically thought of "baby don't hurt me" after reading the chapter title, or you're a liar.
> 
> Anyway, I do hope you guys all enjoyed this one! Catch ya later!


	24. What Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth needs to talk to Claude about Dimitri.

“Hey guys! So how did the mission go?”

“It went...well, considering a bunch of brainwashed civilians were attacking everyone,” the professor answered.

The attack on Remire had been everything Byleth expected. At least, when they initially arrived and up until Tomas had revealed his true identity as Solon. The professor couldn’t help but glance at the prince as a shiver ran down his spine.

“And...Tomas...”

Dimitri inhaled audibly. “It had been as you said. His real name was Solon, and he was using Remire for one of his...experiments. The Flame Emperor was there as well.”

Byleth nodded in agreement. “Next they’ll be preying on students and using what they took from Flayn’s blood to turn them into demonic beasts.”

“That’s right, and it’ll be up to both of you to take them down. However...”

Claude’s pause made both the prince and professor exchange a quick gaze before focusing on the archer again.

“Is something the matter?”

Claude sighed. “The thing is... When you defeat a demonic beast, as in, you know, ending its life, you’re essentially killing the person inside too. It happened with Miklan after we defeated him. He was just...dead. So...”

Byleth’s eyes grew wide. “We’d be killing the students in the process.”

“What!?”

Both Claude and Byleth turned their heads, completely shocked by Dimitri’s outburst. The prince was fuming. His fists were clenched as tightly as his jaw in those gauntlets, and the archer’s body tense as a wild look flashed in the other house leader’s eyes.

“You’re telling me... No, there has to be another way!”

“I’m sorry, Dimitri,” Claude said. “But there really isn’t. If anything, we’d be putting them out of their misery. The only way to bring them back is to-”

“But to kill our own peers? Our fellow students? Claude, you have to be joking!”

“Dimitri...”

“What if we stop them?” the prince pleaded. “What if we get to the students before they can? Surely we’d be able to save them.”

“Dimitri, that’s not how that works. They’ll just kidnap other students and perform the experiments on them.”

“But we can’t just let them die! There has to be another-”

“Dimitri! That’s enough!”

Claude was standing now, blankets thrown to the side and his face contorted in frustration. Byleth stood silent by his side as he looked at and studied Dimitri’s shocked expression. The archer took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before he allowed his body to relax.

“I’ve studied this mission a hundred times over in the past month, and I don’t see any other way. After the fall of the Agarthans, we couldn’t find anything about their experiments _or_ how to reverse them,” he explained. “They destroyed all the evidence before we could find and take them down. Byleth and I tried everything, even searched beyond Fodlan’s borders in hopes to find something, _anything_ really. For now, let’s focus on taking down their spies here in the monastery like Solon.”

“Will we ever face him again?” Byleth asked.

Claude nodded. “After next month’s mission, we manage to track him and his lackeys in a forest not far from Garreg Mach. But let’s take this one step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence between the three of them. Byleth stood awkwardly to the side while Claude stared holes into the prince, who, at this moment, found the floor much more interesting to look at. The quiet was broken by an exhale from Dimitri.

“I... I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen this side of me,” he admitted.

Before Claude could respond, Byleth told him, “It’s fine, Dimitri. Maybe you should take a break. I’ve got something private to discuss with Claude anyway. Feel free to take that time to gather your thoughts and calm down a little.”

“I...” Dimitri glanced at Claude, then Byleth, before taking a step back. “Yes. I think you’re right. If you’ll excuse me...”

The prince left the room without haste, shutting the door as gently as he could. His footsteps echoed through the wooden halls of the upper dorms before they grew distant and quiet. Dimitri had likely returned to his room to cool off. Claude had to remind himself to fetch him, for there was still more to discuss.

For now, however, Byleth needed to speak to him.

The house leader turned to his professor. “So, ya needed somethin’ Teach?”

Byleth returned the gesture. “Yes. But I do think you should sit for this one,” he said.

Claude didn’t hesitate to plop down on his bed again. All the adrenaline he felt made him forget about his head injury, and he was suddenly feeling woozy from standing up so quickly. Byleth, too, took a seat as he grabbed Claude’s desk chair and placed it across from the boy to sit.

Then the professor said, “I need to speak with you about Dimitri.”

Ah. Of course.

“Let me guess... Things didn’t exactly go to plan in Remire on His Highness’s part?” he asked.

“Something like that.” Byleth sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me he would go mad leading up to the war? I know I’ve seen only a short glimpse of it, but, for Sothis’s sake, Claude! He nearly snapped the neck of one of my father’s men just for asking if he was injured!”

Claude visibly flinched at his professor’s shouting. “Right. Right. I’m sorry. I just... I didn’t think it was important enough to mention as that’s something I’m actively trying to avoid!” he said. “I want to protect Dimitri from the war, and from Edelgard. If he finds out about _her_ , well, better hide the whole Imperial army.”

Though it sounded like a joke, Claude knew that was, in fact, exactly what would happen. He knows. He’s lived through it.

Byleth shook his head. “It seems to me his anguish lies beyond just the war, Claude. He’s clearly haunted by something, and it’s been for years. That’s not something you can just easily fix or keep at bay. He’s bound to explode soon, and when he does it will be dangerous for everyone to be near him.”

“I know that, okay?” the archer growled. He didn’t have the energy to stand up again, but the venom in his tone made the message clear. “I’ve been through this! I’ve been through all of this! I’ve seen him spiral down. I’ve seen him die because he was just too out of it to think clearly in battle!”

Byleth frowned, shrinking slightly in his chair. “Claude, I-”

“So don’t _fucking_ tell me what I can and cannot fix!” he screamed. “I know he’s not just going to magically get better! But I know the more we talk about all of this—about the war, about the violence—the worse he’s going to get! So I'm just asking you to drop it!”

“..."

"..."

"...I’m sorry,” the other said, quiet and hesitant. “I trust you to take care of this. But...please, just be careful, Claude.”

The professor didn’t even wait for Claude to answer. He was already on his feet and walking through the door by the time the archer registered all that was said. He turned to the door just as it closed behind Byleth, muttering a curse to himself.

So much for that, he supposed.

* * *

Claude knocked in a rhythm on the door to the prince’s dorm. It was promptly opened as the other teen shouted a quick “just a moment!”. Dimitri stared in surprise at Claude.

“Claude?” he asked. “Is your talk with the professor over?”

“Yeah, pretty much. But I’ve got something else that’s super important,” the other replied. There was no way he was going to tell the prince what actually happened. Besides, it's not like the two will ever talk about it with one another.

Dimitri’s lips were pulled into a frown. “I’m sure the professor is much more capable-”

“Actually, it’s better if we keep this on the down low. Especially from Teach.”

The shift from shocked to confused in the prince’s expression was of no surprise to the archer. The boy tilted his head in wonder.

“How come?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve got something really important that I just don’t need them to know about,” Claude answered. “But first, I’d like to come in.”

“Ah! Right, of course! My apologies...”

Claude had to stifle his laughter as Dimitri stepped aside to allow the other house leader into his dorm, quietly muttering about the mess. Not that there was much of one. Claude’s was most certainly more disorganized than the prince’s. Ah, well.

The two boys sat on the prince’s bed, knowing full well that Claude was still recovering from his injury and, thus, it was best to not let him stand for too long.

When they were fully comfortable, Dimitri asked, “So, what do you need done so badly that the professor is to not know of it? It isn’t another prank, is it?”

Claude smirked playfully at the prince, almost flattered at the accusation that his plan involved any kind of pranks. “Not this time. I know, boring, right? But seriously, it’s something that honestly might make you think I’m crazy. Are you sure you’re prepared to hear it?”

Dimitri rolled his eyes. “You’re a time traveling king who’s preparing to end a war between all of Fodlan and an ancient group of secret humans that are from the era of Sothis and the Saints before any kind of actual fighting breaks out. I don’t think there will be much left in this world to surprise me.”

A laugh broke through the archer’s body, shaking him as his chuckles slowly died down to steel himself.

“Right. Well, in that case, I need you to go on a very important mission.”

“And what mission would that be?”

Claude’s eyes turned to him, staring straight into the prince’s own. Green met blue for a moment, and Claude’ smile began to falter.

“I need you to kill Monica for me.”


	25. Kronya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude begs Dimitri to kill Monica. Dimitri needs to confront Claude.

“I’m sorry, you want me to do _what_?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out: the reason why I want her gone and why Teach should, under no circumstances, learn about this is because of what’s going to happen during next month’s mission.”

“And what would that be?”

Claude sighed, recalling the details in his head of that gruesome day. “She’s going to kill Jeralt,” he told the prince. “Monica is actually an Agarthan named Kronya, and she was sent as a spy to help the Flame Emperor overthrow the Church. Next month, the Agarthans are going to turn some students into demonic beasts and Jeralt ends up teaming with Teach and the Deer to put a stop to it. Seeing as they don’t plan to kill Teach just yet, they likely went after Jeralt as a warning to stay out of their way.”

“...I’m assuming there’s no other way of stopping her then.”

“Not without exposing ourselves, no.”

Dimitri’s lips were pressed into a thin line as he exhaled sharply. “Very well. But considering she spends all her time around Edelgard and Hubert, I doubt I can get close to her.”

“Then we strike at night. Find out where she goes once everyone is asleep and follow her until she’s alone. I’ll catch up with the Deer during this week and see if they know anything.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll check in with the Blue Lions. Perhaps they have some leads as well.”

Claude couldn’t help the devilish smile stretching across his face. “Then we have a plan.” To that, the prince could only sigh in feigned disappointment.

“Honestly, I need to stop placing so much faith in your plans. I just know it’s going to get me killed one day,” he said, making the other teen chuckle.

“Oh, come on, Dima. You gotta admit my schemes are top notch.”

“I will neither deny nor confirm.”

“Ah, what? You can’t be serious...”

Now, it was Dimitri’s turn to laugh. The boy’s giggles erupted through him and echoed off the walls of the room. It was such an innocent and sweet laughter, one Claude deeply cherished. His wicked grin softened into a gentle beam. Before he knew it, he was extending his arms and wrapping them around the prince’s torso. Claude buried his face into Dimitri’s chest as he hugged him and smiled.

“Goodnight, Dimitri.”

By the time he realized what he had done, it was too late. But just as Claude was beginning to regret giving in to his subconscious desire the archer felt a pair of strong arms reciprocate the action. Dimitri returned the gesture, resting his head atop of Claude’s.

“Goodnight, Claude,” he muttered in exchange. “Please be careful returning to your room. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

The shorter teen felt his face burn. “Right. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay. Uh...bye.”

Claude pulled himself away from the hug and dashed out of the dorm as soon as he could. He shut the door behind him and sped back to his own room. His cheeks were no doubt a cherry red by now and his heart wouldn’t stop thumping so quickly in his chest. He felt like he was suffocating!

What the hell was he getting himself into?

* * *

It hadn’t been at all easy.

As it turns out, “Monica” interacted very little with anyone other than Edelgard and Hubert. When asked about it, the responses of his fellow classmates weren’t all that surprising to Dimitri. Felix claimed he was busy training and didn’t pay any attention to her at all, Ingrid said she only really saw her when everyone else was around, Annette and Ashe apparently had forgotten she was a student, Mercedes didn’t notice anything strange about her, Sylvain was still Sylvain, and Dedue didn’t pay that much attention to her but offered to confront her.

And according to Claude, everyone but El and Hubert were clueless about her. Almost as if she just disappeared when no one was looking.

“Um... Your Highness? Were you asking something about Monica just now?”

At least, everyone but Bernadetta it seemed.

Dimitri immediately turned to the skittish girl with a warm smile. “Yes, actually. Do you happen to know anything about her? More particularly anything rather...unusual?”

“Uh...” Bernadetta glanced around the room. “I’ve seen her late at night, occasionally, by the market. I don’t know why she’d be there though. Everything is usually closed around that time.”

_The market you say?_

“Have you followed her?” he asked.

The girl shook her head. “No. I try to mind my own business when I can. I mean...maybe she just likes to get there really early to get the best stuff? I’m not quite sure...”

“That’s perfectly fine, Bernadetta.” Dimitri gave a bow to her as he said, “Thank you for informing me.”

“O-Oh! You’re welcome,” she replied.

With that, the two went their separate ways, and Dimitri continued on with his mission.

He first went to relay the information to Claude, who was, to no one’s surprise, intrigued by the woman’s mysterious visits to the market. The archer suggested waiting for her there once everyone went to sleep, and to arm himself. Dimitri agreed to the plan.

So, as the sun fell below the horizon and everyone returned to their dorms for the night, Dimitri stayed awake. He doubted he was going to get much sleep anyways. He might as well put his insomnia to good use. As the witching hour approached, the prince quietly snuck out of his room and rushed down towards the training hall to find a weapon. If he was caught, he could say he wanted to get some extra training in as an excuse.

As he walked down the reception hall, Dimitri noticed a shadow passing through and down towards the market. His eyes narrowed to focus through the darkness of the empty monastery halls and followed the perpetrator, lance in hand. He was careful as to not startle them, less they discover him following their every move. But he had no doubt it was Kronya. And as he followed her down the corridor, Claude’s words replayed in his head.

She was going to kill Jeralt. An innocent man, a just leader, and his professor’s father. He would not stand for this injustice. He will put a stop to it, even if he fell and was sent to the eternal flames for trying. He’d do this for the professor. For Jeralt.

For Claude.

When he arrived at the market, the place desolate and void of any life around, he watched his target cautiously. Kronya turned her head obviously searching for something. Or, more likely, for someone. And as she ducked behind a vendor, it seemed she had given up her search. But there was nothing truly behind them. He would have her alone.

Dimitri immediately threw all caution to the wind as he chased her, lance prepared to strike, but was shocked at what he saw when turning the corner.

Kronya, or who he assumed was the real Kronya, was facing him in the small alley between the vendors. Her appearance had completely changed: the tied, red red was replaced by long, loose, and orange locks that fell down just below her shoulders, her skin had paled significantly to match that of the moon above them, and her eyes were a mix of fire red and sunset orange with a drop of what appeared to be ink just under the left side of her face creating a tear-drop on her cheek. Her clothes were completely different as well. Rather than the regular Officer’s Academy uniform, she was adorned in all black and gold, skin-tight armor.

Overall, she looked like a twisted, corrupt court jester, and it made Dimitri feel uneasy rather than relieved.

“So, you’ve figured me out, huh?” The cackle she let out enraged the prince. “Though I guess you haven’t been working alone either. After all, you were completely oblivious to me. That is, until I’ve noticed you grow closer to that Claude boy.”

Dimitri grit his teeth. “What is your plan? Why are you harming innocent people? Tell me!”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be demanding things, _Your Highness_.”

“Quite frankly-” He took his lance and aimed the speared end at the Agarthan. “-I could say the same about you. Now answer me: what are your plans with Fodlan? With the monastery? What is your goal here?”

The smile she gave him was nothing less than sinister, and it disgusted him. “You won’t get that information out of me so easily.”

Suddenly, the woman rushed towards him, but Dimitri moved just in time to deflect an attack from her knife—where the _hell_ did she even get that?—with his lance. Now it was his turn. The prince ran at Kronya and swung away at her, backing her up towards the wall that separated the monastery from the outside. And though she was quick to dodge his attacks, she wasn’t quite quick enough.

With a single misstep, Dimitri managed to strike her just beneath her ribs and cut the skin open. She cried in pain, fell over, and rolled on the ground until her back hit the stone enclosure. Kronya sat up and placed a hand over her wound. She glared at the blood on her hands as she pulled away from it before looking up at the prince, a deranged smile on her face.

“Is that all you can do?” she hissed.

The prince growled, striding over to her, and the woman suddenly found the end of the boy’s lance pressed against her throat with Dimitri peering over her form.

“I’ll ask you just once more: what are you planning?” He pressed the spear of his weapon ever so slightly into her skin, nearly breaking through it. “I suggest you give in and tell me what I want to know.”

Kronya’s breath hitched at the pressure. “Alright! Alright! Look, I don’t know that much. I’ve been working too closely here trying to keep an eye on that girl to know what the others are up to. Besides, I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out anyhow.”

Girl? What girl? She couldn’t be referring to Edelgard, could she? How is she involved in all of this? Not only that, how could she possibly know he was aware of their plan?

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“I know about that boy you’ve got with you. Let’s just say...he’s not really who he’s told you he is.”

Now that struck a nerve in the prince, and by the smug look on her face it seemed Kronya picked it up.

“Don’t believe me? Why don’t you ask him yourself.”

“I...” Dimitri shook his head and glared at her. His voice dropped fairly low as he told her, “Claude has told me all I need to know about you and your people. How you plan to bring war to Fodlan, resulting in thousands of lives lost, and for what!? For power? For glory? How selfish...”

Kronya laughed. “If that’s what you think, you’re easier to fool than I thought.”

“Wha- Are you implying Claude has been lying?” he hissed. “How dare you! He would never-”

“What, lie? Come on now... Even before he replaced the old Claude and came to the past, wasn’t that his thing?” she giggled. “I mean, if he’s smart enough to get past our defenses, he’s certainly smart enough to hide things from even you, wouldn’t he? An oblivious prince with no knowledge of what was to come. If anything, I don’t know how you couldn’t see it sooner.”

“I... That isn’t...”

No. No, that wasn’t true. She was just trying to distract him! He wouldn’t let that happen. Claude would never lie. Not about this.

However, with every passing second, Kronya could see the doubt she instilled in him grow and grow.

“It’s like I said: if you don’t believe me, go on and ask him yourself. In fact, I’ll give you a head start!”

Then, suddenly, a cloud of smoke broke through and surrounded them. Dimitri was forced out of focus by the coughing fit that followed the sudden invasion of his lungs. When it cleared, Kronya was no longer shrouded in his shadow. He turned quickly to look for her only to see her stand away from him, perfectly fine and well, with a wicked grin on her face.

“Why don’t you ask him about the Flame Emperor? I’m sure he’d love to tell you all about her.” Another ripple of amused laughter cracked through her lips. “Anyway, I’ve gotta run. Tootles!”

Before the prince could even take a single step forward, another cloud of smoke appeared as Kronya ran off and disappeared into the night. He was thrown off once again. By the time the smoke cleared to a once more clear market, Kronya was long gone. Dimitri was left in the dark alley in complete and utter confusion.

He had no choice but to return to his room with his tail between his legs.

* * *

When Dimitri returns to Claude’s room the next day, he’s not sure how to feel.

Of course he’s furious, outraged even, at the very idea that Claude would be lying to him. But he knows Claude. He’s spent this whole time with him, talking and planning for a brighter future. He cares for him, and surely the other feels the same. Else he wouldn’t even tell Dimitri about the war. Kronya could have been lying to throw him off. It even worked, so that had to be it, right?

But as he walked inside and deep blue met emerald green, he’s thrown back into the confusion.

“Hey,” the archer greeted. “How did it go?”

Dimitri said nothing for a moment before sighing. “She... She got away,” he said. “I’m sorry, Claude, I had her right there but... She threw me off and managed to escape.”

The disappointment on the other’s face was well expected. Still, Claude’s smile didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I doubt she’ll be coming close to the monastery anytime soon. Not now that she knows we’re onto her and the rest of the Agarthans.”

“Right.” Dimitri glanced towards the floor. “Of course...”

Silence soon followed his words, and though the prince wasn’t looking at his fellow student he could feel Claude’s eyes boring into him. No doubt, he was even frowning at the prince.

“Alright, what happened?” he asked. “And don’t give me that whole ‘don’t worry about it’ bull. I’ve known you for two lifetimes: I can tell when something’s up.”

_ Damn it... _

“I... It truly is nothing to worry about, Claude. Just some...personal issues. That’s all.”

“ _ Dimitri- _ ”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you with my trivial-”

“Dimitri, I swear to the  _ gods _ , just spit it out. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

The sound of creaking wood echoed in the prince’s ears, and when he dared to look up again he found Claude standing right in front of him. The archer reached out and placed a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. A sign of offered comfort. The prince felt himself relax, though only a little as the questions in his head started to bubble like an erupting volcano. He couldn’t help but bit his lip anxiously.

“Nothing you say will make me feel any different towards you,” Claude muttered to him. His voice was calm and serene, like a mother speaking softly to her child. It made Dimitri’s heart simultaneously soar and twist in agony.

“Are you certain?” he asked.

“Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we? I’ll be here every step of the way.”

Right. They were friends. At least, now it was confirmed. The notion was always in Dimitri’s mind, but to hear it from Claude was definitely reassuring to say the least.

The prince took a deep breath, calming his nerves as he prepared himself to face the other teen before him. Here goes nothing.

“Claude... Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked.

That seemed to throw him off guard. Claude’s eyes grew wide, his jaw nearly slacking open and dropping towards the floor. However, he quickly composed himself and let out a laugh.

“Now why would ya say that, your princliness? Don’t tell me Lysithea’s been bad-mouthing me again. I swear, ya make a couple of short jokes and next thing ya know-”

“It wasn’t Lysithea,” Dimitri admitted. “It was... It was Kronya. When I went to confront her, she told me you have been lying about this whole... This whole war thing. That you’ve been hiding something from me.” Then, almost as if he was pleading with him, Dimitri asked, “Is it true?”

Claude went quiet.

He was unsure of how to respond, and suddenly Dimitri felt he knew all he needed to know.

“So then it is true. So you... You’ve been hiding things from me. What is it, Claude? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Dimitri, I-”

“Is it about the Flame Emperor? She said you knew their identity— _ her _ identity—so who is it? Who is the Flame Emperor?”

“Dimitri, you don’t understand...”

“What don’t I understand?” the prince roared. “Why won’t you just tell me? Does the professor know as well? And what does Edelgard have to do with any of this? Why are you keeping secrets!?”

“Dimitri, would you just listen!?” Claude cried. “I... I can’t explain any of it. Not yet. In time, I’ll tell you everything. But right now there’s a lot to be done and a lot that’s at stake. I want to focus on that before anything else.”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the other before roughly shrugging the archer’s hand off his shoulder. “We only have so much time before the war begins, and you want to waste time on secrets? Unbelievable!”

Not wanting to hear another word of it, the prince turned on his heel and began to march out of the dorm room. Claude called out to him, begging him to stop and listen, but he would have none of it. Just as he reached out for the door handle, Dimitri felt himself being forcefully turned around to face his peer. However, before he could lecture Claude again, the shorter of the two did something to make the prince’s heart jump through his chest.

Claude had reached up, his arms around the other’s neck, and pressed his lips to Dimitri’s in a desperate but warm kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it lads. It's finally happened.  
> Now if only we could figure out how could Kronya possibly know that Claude was sent to the past? I wonder...


	26. The Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and Dimitri are avoiding each other. But how long can they keep it up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you the gayest chapter in this entire fic. You're all welcome.

The days leading up to the ball are quite troublesome.

Firstly, no one had seen Kronya since the night Dimitri drove her out of the monastery. Claude considered this a win, as the goal was to avoid Jeralt’s death, and it seemed fate was working in their favor. However, there was still no telling of what could happen. It was in everyone’s best interest that he stay on his toes.

On the brighter side, Dorothea and Cyril had been recruited by Byleth to join the Golden Deer. The professor claimed Cyril had a lot of potential as a warrior and offered him a seat in their class. When the boy wasn’t convinced, Lysithea was beside Byleth and encouraged Cyril with the promise of extra lessons in reading. Those kids sure did get along pretty well recently. Claude couldn’t help but smile, remembering the talk of their relationship before Lysithea met her end. Cyril ended up right back at the monastery when the war was over to serve Byleth once Rhea, too, passed away from her injuries.

Dorothea, meanwhile, joined so she could practice with the professor for the White Heron Cup. Byleth believed she would make for a great dancer in battle, and so invited her to join them. She happily agreed to do so and help them win. Now she, too, was safe.

While that was all fine and dandy, there was just one more problem Claude had to deal with regarding a certain prince.

Claude and Dimitri had been completely avoiding one another since that time in the former’s room. It made the archer think that it was, perhaps, a bad idea to just kiss the other teen so suddenly.

...Yeah. It was totally a bad idea.

Not only did it now make things awkward between them, but Claude knew his mind was just thrown into a panic once Dimitri started getting angry. There wasn’t even a good reason to kiss him other than it working as a distraction. Well, it certainly did the job, but how was he supposed to get the other’s help to secure a safer Fodlan now? Claude knew wallowing in self pity wasn’t going to get anything done, so he told the professor during one of his visits. In hindsight, that was almost as bad an idea as kissing Dimitri.

The first thing Byleth did was laugh—actually laugh—at him. Claude had never felt so flustered in his life! To have his own teacher laughing at him was a new level of humiliating.

“It’s not funny, Teach!” he cried out, face flushed red.

Byleth’s laughter slowly died down to a soft chuckle. “My apologies, Claude. I just- Pft, haha! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The professor wiped away a tear. “But how else do you expect me to react?”

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect you to _laugh_ at me, that’s for sure.” The archer shook his head, which currently rested in his hands to hide his embarrassment, and sighed. “I thought you’d be more surprised than entertained.”

“To feign surprise would be dishonest of me, Claude.”

The boy’s head shot up as his eyes blew wide open to stare at Byleth with his jaw dropped almost down to the floor. “Wha- But, how-?”

Byleth offered him a smile. “You and His Highness are not exactly subtle with your affections, you know. I’m surprised no one had to point it out to the two of you. Even Sothis believed you were utterly hopeless.”

 **“I still do,”** the goddess muttered. Not that Claude could hear her, though. **“But at least they aren’t you and that boy from Abyss.”** That earned the goddess a glare from her host as she giggled.

“So wait... Everyone was able to tell!?” Claude once again threw his head into his hands, this time throwing himself on the bed on his back and groaning. “This can’t possibly get any worse.”

“Well,” Byleth said, “there is always the ball.”

“Right. The last thing I need is bumping into him that night...”

“No, Claude, I’m saying you should go.” Byleth sighed as the archer gave him a bewildered look, his green eyes practically screaming _‘are you fucking crazy?’_. “We still need Dimitri to help us get through the war. Edelgard doesn’t seem like she’ll be backing down, so it’s best to prepare while we can. If we can’t avoid my disappearance then you two will be on your own for the next five years.”

“And I’m guessing you want us to talk this thing out, huh?”

A nod came from the professor, and Claude could only feel his anxiety grow. He was never that good at confronting people. At least, not when it came to feelings. With strategies, battles, and small civil disputes he never even broke a sweat. But this? He was way out of his league.

The teen couldn’t help but let out a sigh at such depressing thoughts.

“Alright, I guess I can give it a shot,” he said. “But I don’t think Manuela would clear me from bedrest just for a party.”

“If you’d like, I could talk to her,” the professor offered.

“Nah. I can fight my own battles. Thanks anyway, Teach.”

“Of course. Then I’ll be seeing you at the White Heron Cup.”

Byleth stood up from his seat and made his way out of the dorm. He turned the knob, but just before opening the door he glanced over his shoulder at his student.

“Oh, and Claude, when I say ‘talk to Dimitri’, I mean _talk_ to him.”

Claude, who was already midway through scheming up a plan to get out of this mess, let out a nervous chuckle. Oh, to be caught before you could even do anything...

“Right. You got it, Teach!”

Byleth said nothing else after that. He nodded to the archer, opened the door, and closed it as he left the room. Claude was left to his own devices now, but with less of a choice than he had hoped.

This was going to be a long week, wasn’t it?

* * *

Claude was a little disappointed that he got clearance to attend the ball as well as the White Heron Cup from Manuela. Seeing as he wasn’t going to be doing anything too strenuous, at least, that was what the professor had warned him  _ not _ to do, she saw no reason for him to not at least be at either event. For the first time in his life, Claude decided he suddenly hated parties.

The competition was slightly different from when Claude first witnessed it. In his first life, Byleth had barely recruited any of the other house members and, instead, had Marianne as their representative. Now the blue-haired girl was standing by an excitable Hilda and watching as Dorothea, who was once their enemy, left her opponents in the dust. The girl had won by a landslide against Ferdinand and Felix, the latter not really seeming to care that he lost, and the Deer took the night to celebrate.

A grand feast was thrown in the dining hall—at least as grand as it was allowed to be—and the Lions and Deer ate together in a moment of solidarity and unity. The Eagles were nowhere to be found. Edelgard had disappeared not long after the competition was over and the winner was announced, which Claude didn’t like at all, and no doubt Hubert had gone with her. Ferdinand made a brief appearance before quickly leaving to go find them. The archer could only hope he didn’t get himself in trouble.

Dimitri was also at the celebration, but, against Byleth’s wishes, Claude opted to avoid him. At least for now. He would take the night of the ball to speak with the prince. At the moment the two seemed to be alright with nervous glances across the table, both awkwardly turning away whenever their eyes met. Such ill-timing the boys had...

The ball itself was something else entirely.

Once the sun set over the horizon, everyone was buzzing around. Students and staff alike were mingling, talking, laughing, and just having a great time. It was a peaceful moment amongst all the chaos, even excluding all the time travel bullshit, and when the music began to play the scene grew even more heartwarming.

In the crowd, Claude noticed all of his friends dancing together with smiles on their faces. Hilda was dragging Marianne across the floor with both of them laughing. He was glad to see the two grow closer to one another in this lifetime. Then he spotted Ignatz and Ralphael chilling by the buffet. The former was talking excitedly about something with the latter hanging on to his every word, an adoring smile on his face, and not far from them was Lysithea teaching Cyril how to dance. Claude felt like a proud dad watching his kids grow up.

Closer to where he was standing was Lorenz and Leonie. To no one’s shock, it was Leonie who was leading the pompous noble into a waltz, but Claude had never expected her to be so  _ good _ at it. Guess you really do learn something new everyday!

Then there was Sylvain, who Claude noticed getting turned down by all the girls tonight, laughing at a flustered Felix as they danced across the ballroom together. Those two really needed to just hook up already. He was getting second-hand embarrassment just watching them.

Dorothea and Petra, too, were having fun with one another. Dorothea was adorned in her dancer’s outfit as she and Petra held on another close and glided across the dance floor. Lastly, there was Bernadetta and Flayn who seemed to be happily munching away at some sweets on the sidelines. No doubt Seteth was close by enough to threaten any boy who dared to ask Flayn for a dance, and Bernadetta was just naturally fine with the spotlight not being on her. Overall, everyone was enjoying themselves.

It was beginning to make Claude think of what life would be like after the war. Once the smoke cleared and the Empire fell, what would Fodlan look like then? Would it be the same as the one he had left, or would it be something else entirely? Would the same people die, or would they have a second chance at life? Claude, for the sake of his sanity, could only imagine a world in which everyone lived harmoniously together. A world in which everyone he ever loved was alive and well, and enjoying their lives. A world full of weddings and newly made parents and a system that was no longer driven by dividing people.

That was the world Claude saw himself fighting for.

As the archer finds himself smiling at the thought, he quickly notices Byleth standing alone. He approaches him and offers his hand.

“Come on, Teach! It’s about time I showed you some of my skill, wouldn’t you say?”

Though Byleth shakes his head, there’s a grin on his face. The professor takes Claude’s hand and is whisked away onto the floor. The two dance together with the younger surprised at his teacher’s moves—he’ll have to ask where he learned to dance like this—when their fun is cut short by a familiar Abyssian.

“I hope you don’t mind me cutting in,” Yuri said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Claude glanced over to his teacher, who is blushing to a level he had never seen before, and gave a smirk. He bowed to Byleth and Yuri.

“By all means. In fact, you came just in time. I was about to go out for some fresh air.”

Byleth turns to him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Claude-”

“I knew you’d understand.” Yuri took a hold of Byleth’s hand. “Let’s see if you’re as good a dancer as you look, Professor.”

Before the man could object, Byleth was whisked away by the Abyssian to the dancefloor, leaving Claude with an opening to get away from the scene. The archer was laughing as he made his way out of the reception hall and into the courtyard.

The monastery looked very different at night, more beautiful and mysterious, and Claude enjoyed standing out in the chilled air of its grounds. Garreg Mach was much closer to the southern waters of the continent, making their winters fairly mild compared to that of Sreng and Faerghus. He remembered standing on the balcony of the Goddess Tower, the war finally having just come to an end, and...

Wait. The Goddess Tower.

That was it.

Claude, for reasons he himself could not explain, made his way towards the famous tower across the monastery grounds. He climbed it just as he did all those years ago—and yet also in years that have yet to reach him—until he reached the very top. It was here that the tides of war were forever changed. It was here where he found the professor under the light of a new dawn, both literally and figuratively, and the two joined forces to fight against Edelgard and her empire.

And it was here that he found something else. Something new. Something he was not sure was guaranteed. Something he could not even name.

But when he saw the blue eyes of the prince staring back at him, he knew Dimitri was a part of that something.

The two house leaders remained frozen. Dimitri stood in the center of the room with Claude stuck by the staircase, and neither one seemed to have the will to move from where they were. It’s dead silent. The air is tense. They’re both shocked and alarmed to see one another. It stays this way for what seemed like years, but was only mere minutes.

It’s Dimitri who decides to break the silence.

“Um... Hello, Claude. I-” He paused. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, uh... Same. I mean- uh, I didn’t think you’d be here either.”

They both go quiet again.

“...I’m sorry,” the older muttered. “I... I shouldn’t have, ya know, so suddenly, and uh...”

“There is no need to apologize, truly. It was just...” There’s a noticeable blush on the prince’s face. “Unexpected. That’s all.”

“Right. But I feel I should still apologize. I never asked if I could, and you probably didn’t like it, so-”

“Actually, I did.”

Claude blinks up at him. “...Huh?”

Dimitri takes a deep, audible breath, likely to calm his nerves, and takes a few steps towards his fellow house leader. “Contrary to what you may think I...quite enjoyed it. The kiss, I mean.” The prince’s eyes falter and glance away from Claude. “In fact, there is something I’ve been meaning to confess for some time.”

Claude could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and for a moment he’s scared it’ll pop right through his ribcage. Nonetheless, he motions for the other to continue. Dimitri nods in understanding.

“Claude—no,  _ Khalid _ , I... I’ve come to realize over the past few months that I care for you. Not just as a friend, or even a future ally, but as something much more. At first I refused to truly see it. After all, we both have our duties to our territories. You were destined to lead the Alliance, and I was destined to rule over Faerghus. It didn’t seem entirely possible for us to be anything more than close friends. However...”

Dimitri lifted his gaze, his expression revealing his determination. “It was only after I learned that you were from the future, and married to our professor, that I came to terms with my feelings for you. My jealousy towards the professor opened my eyes, and I feared that perhaps you would follow your previous path and choose him as your lover. I still sort of do. But, when you kissed me, it gave me hope that, perhaps, I could...”

The prince’s words hung in the air, incomplete and unsure. But Claude understood it all the same. A chuckle slipped past his lips, though the look in his eyes showed he found this situation anything but funny, and also stepped closer.

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing: I’m not sure if I can ever go back to them. To the Teach I knew. Of course he’s still here, but it’s not the same. He doesn’t love me like that-”

“Claude...”

“And, quite frankly, I don’t think I can love him like that anymore either.”

Dimitri’s eyes grew wide. “What? But, you two were-”

“Married. I know. But that was someone else entirely. That Byleth had seen me struggle, seen me grieve, and I felt he was the only one I could ever really trust out of the whole army. Especially after you...”

“...After I what?” the prince asked. “What happened to me?”

Claude bit his lip. “...After you died, the Kingdom came to us for assistance in the war. At least, what was left of it anyway. You were killed at Gronder along with a majority of your army, and I witnessed all of it. Only Ingrid, Ashe, and Sylvain survived the onslaught. Sylvain refused to talk to me after that, Ingrid lashed out at almost everyone, especially me, and Ashe would refuse to leave his room half the time. I kept thinking I should’ve done something, that I could’ve saved you, but in the end I was too much of a damned coward. I couldn’t even protect my own people, let alone you. I had nightmares about it for weeks, I still sometimes do, and— _ gods _ , I just didn’t know  _ what to do _ . But Byleth was there for me. I guess, over time, we grew a bond. But nothing would stop me from thinking about you. We weren’t nearly this close, but to see you die, I just-”

The archer stopped himself. The raw emotion bubbling up inside of him became too much, and his eyes were overflowed with tears. He wished he could just forget all of it. Forget the war, forget Dimitri, he just wanted all of it gone. For his memory to be wiped away like a smudge of dirt on a table.

Watching Claude—his friend, who had been so strong and resilient and been through so much he thought nothing in the world could faze him anymore—actually cry before his very eyes awoken something within the prince. Anger. Sadness. Sympathy. They all came together into one complex emotion he couldn’t describe, and it frustrated him to no end. So Dimitri did the only thing he believed he could do.

Dimitri closed the distance between himself and Claude by pulling the other into a strong hug. He could feel his clothes dampen as the older teen cried into his chest, and he allowed him to stay there. His sobs were echoed within cracked, stone walls of the Goddess Tower, and to hear it so loud and present nearly broke the prince’s heart.

When Claude’s crying turned into silent whimpers, the prince loosened his hold on him to look the boy in the eye.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

A small nod was given. “Yeah, a little,” Claude replied. “Thank you. I... I don’t know how to repay you.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No need to. I care deeply for you, Khalid. I’d do anything for you.”

This emitted a laugh from the shorter boy. A small one, but a laugh nonetheless, and the prince couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He wanted nothing more than for Claude to be happy, and he would let nothing stand in the way of that. Not Kronya, not the Flame Emperor, and certainly no war to claim the lives of the people he loves.

“Khalid,” the prince told him, cupping the other’s cheek with his hand, “I promise I will always be here when you need me. I don’t know what will happen, or how the war will play out, but know I will always come when you call for me. Do you understand?”

Claude nodded. “Yeah. You can count on me as well, Dima.” The brunette smiled as he placed his hand over Dimitri’s, leaning into the younger one’s touch. “I don’t want anything to happen to you either.”

“Then let us make a promise, here and now,” he said. “They say when two people make a promise at the top of the Goddess Tower on the last night of the Ethereal Moon, that promise will be fulfilled. Khalid, I’d like to make a promise with you.”

“And what promise would that be?”

“If the war tears us apart, let us meet here so we may never stray from one another again. I want to protect you with everything I am. I never want to watch you hurt.” Dimitri closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Claude’s. “Khalid, I... I like you. A lot.”

Claude felt his heart stop. He stared up at Dimitri as those glowing sapphires opened again and stared straight into his soul, and he was left mesmerized by their shimmer in the darkness of the tower’s room.

“Dimitri...,” he whispered.

“May I kiss you again?” the prince asked.

“...Yes.”

Neither one wasted any time. Dimitri took Claude’s face into his hands before leaning forward and pressing their lips together. Claude felt entirely consumed by the prince as he wrapped his arms around the taller boy’s neck and pulled himself flush against Dimitri’s body in fervor.

This is what Claude believed he found when coming to the Goddess Tower and seeing Dimitri standing there. This perfect moment, made just for the two of them. This feeling that made his heart ache and his body grow warm and his face pull itself into a smile.

Claude had found hope, he was sure of it now, and he never wanted it to leave him ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told ya'll it was pretty gay.
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this super long chapter! I'll be kind of busy trying to transition into adult life now that I've graduated high school and am going into college. Got some stuff to do for my summer job, keep track of my stuff for school, all that jazz.
> 
> Until then, see you guys later!


	27. Brewing Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri reflects on the night of the ball, only to have his joy taken when a familiar fighter comes for the captain's life.

Dimitri couldn’t stop thinking about that night.

He knew they had a mission to accomplish. That they had to fight demonic beasts, though he knew not what they would look like, and they had to protect Jeralt without the professor’s knowledge of the danger he was in. Still, he managed to drive Kronya away, so surely they were able to relax even a little.

The prince felt so tense recently. Everything that had happened since coming to Garreg Mach just made him feel worse and worse with every month that passed. To hear from Claude that all of it was the cause of a brewing war was, ironically, relieving. At least he knew what was to come. He couldn’t imagine how his other self, the other Dimitri, could possibly deal with all of this. It all reminded him a little too well of the events in Duscur.

He knew they had to be behind it all. Those people he saw amongst the flames that burned his family and loved ones until there was nothing left of them. They had to be the same ones behind the war, the ones behind the kidnappings and demonic beasts and all the terror Fodlan has faced: the Agarthans. To know “Monica” was one of them certainly didn’t help his paranoia. Who else was working with them? Would Claude know who they were, or did they never reveal themselves like Kronya did? If so, who within the monastery could they trust? Could they even trust anyone?

Just thinking about it was giving the prince a headache, as well as a rising temper, and so he focused back on that night. How it felt to have Claude in his arms, to taste those lips he’s dreamed of for months, to see him smile so genuinely after they pulled apart. He wanted to do more. To press his lips back against the other’s, to feel him, touch him, and so many other things that were definitely _not_ appropriate for a future king to think about.

Just knowing his feelings for Claude were mutual—he did kiss him again, so surely he also had feelings for the prince, right?—made Dimitri just a little more hopeful of the future. They would forever have one another’s backs. They weren’t going to let this war tear them apart. They would make it through together and come out stronger.

“...You’re thinking about Claude, aren’t you?”

Dimitri felt his face flush. His head whipped towards the professor who stared back blankly save for the smirk on his face.

“Wha-What do you mean, Professor?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Dimitri. You two kissed again, didn’t you?”

Gods, he _knew_?

Though Dimitri didn’t say anything in return, the embarrassed look written all over the prince’s face, combined with his feeble attempt to hide said embarrassment, was the only answer Byleth needed. He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.

“No need to feel shy about it,” he said. “It’s perfectly natural for two young men such as yourselves to feel this way.”

“That isn’t the problem, I’m afraid,” the prince admitted.

Byleth raised a brow. “Oh? Then what is?”

Dimitri sighed. “I’m just not used to feeling this way. I’ve been far more concerned with...personal matters than anything. Including relationships. I didn’t even think that Kha- I mean, _Claude_ would share the sentiment.”

A hum came from the professor, but he said nothing more. The two continued to walk behind the others in silence. After a few moments, Byleth glanced over at the prince with a smirk.

“Well, do let me know when the wedding is.”

“P-Professor!”

* * *

When they arrived at the scene, Dimitri was horrified by what he saw. Claude had never before explained the appearance of demonic beasts, but they certainly looked nothing like what the prince imagined.

The students were transformed into large, mole-like creatures. They had no eyes, nose, or any other noticeable features on their face other than their wide, slobbering mouths that held rows of sharp teeth and a single, glowing orb on their foreheads. Their bodies looked like they were entirely wrapped in bandages, their spines raised to expose bone, as they walked on all fours with their feet transformed into clawed paws similar to that of rats.

It was painful to watch them be slaughtered, knowing there was no other way to save them. They were doomed from the moment the Agarthans got their hands on them. He prayed to the goddess they were in a better place now.

Once their job was complete, everyone began to prepare to head back to the monastery. Dimitri, distraught by what just took place, headed towards the professor when he saw something moving about in the shadows of the forest. His head quickly turned to see what it was and his eyes shot open at the familiar silhouette.

Kronya was back, and she was making her way towards Jeralt disguised as Monica once again. She was smiling up at him with a strange dagger hidden behind her back. He had to stop her!

Taking his lance in hand, Dimitri ran towards the captain and gave a shout, “Look out!”

All eyes turned to him, and without a second thought Dimitri swung to attack the Agarthan. Kronya dodged the blow in time. However, she ended up dropping the dagger right by Jeralt’s feet. Dimitri stood between her and the captain: jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, and fists holding his weapon so tightly in his rage he might accidentally snap it in half. Kronya stared back at him first in surprise, then, as his peers began to shout amongst themselves at the sight, her gaze shifted into one of fury.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“I know who you are, Kronya! You’ve disguised yourself as Monica to infiltrate the monastery so you may get close to the captain and murder him in cold blood!” he shouted. “I thought driving you out of Garreg Mach would keep you away, but it seems you haven’t quite learned your lesson yet, have you?”

“Hey, what the fuck is going on here?” Jeralt asked.

“Yeah, I think I’d like to know that too!” came Lysithea’s voice.

“Why is His Highness attacking Monica?” Annette asked.

“I don’t think that’s Monica,” replied Mercedes.

“He just said her name is Kronya...”

“Dimitri,” called Byleth, “what the hell is going on?”

The prince, never breaking eye contact from the woman, told his classmates, “This isn’t Monica. I’m afraid to say it, but this woman has been impersonating her since we’ve found Flayn. Her real name is Kronya, and she is an Agarthan! She and her filthy kind plan to destroy Garreg Mach and, potentially, all of Fodlan!”

A wave of gasps filled the air. The Lions and Deer all stared at one another in shock, some wondering if the prince had finally lost his mind after all that’s happened, when Kronya suddenly jumped to her feet and smirked. A cloud of smoke exploded into the air, nearly blinding all within the vicinity, and when it cleared away the woman stood before the Academy students in her true form.

“Seems you’ve figured me out. Though I guess your precious Khalid’s told you all about us, huh? Still trusting the word of that traitor?” she chuckled.

Dimitri was taken aback, shocked by her address towards Claude. “Wait, how did you-”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll get our chance at revenge soon enough,” she said. “For now, I’ll just have to get you out of the way!”

Kronya stretched out her hand, and the dagger that dropped from her grasp flew into her clutches once more. She ran at the prince with a loud battle cry and an unmatched speed, but Dimitri stood his ground, fully prepared to fight.

However, a clang of metal rang through the air, followed by the sound of slicing flesh, and Kronya let out a sharp cry.

Dimitri watched in surprise as the woman was struck, causing her to drop the dagger yet again, and turned his head towards the retracting blade of Byleth’s sword. The professor’s eyes were narrowed and cold as he glared her down. Kronya glanced at the dagger, then her injured hand, and growled.

“Stop getting in our way!” she shouted.

Byleth huffed. “No. I don’t think I will.”

Then, with a shout, he activated the Sword of the Creator’s ability once more and thrusted his weapon forward. The blade broke into the shape of a spine and cut through the air until it would hit its target. But just as everyone prepared to watch the Agarthan be slaughtered the point of the blade was knocked away by strange, purple magic.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a tall and strange man stood between Kronya and the sword. Dimitri’s eyes went wide.

The man was at least a whole foot taller than him, maybe even two, with long, white hair and sickeningly pale skin. His body was covered in armor with furred lining giving him the appearance of some kind of king or emperor. Though it wasn’t red, so there was no way it could be the Flame Emperor unmasked. Not to mention this man was simply far too tall.

Then there was his eyes. A pair of empty orbs without a single sign of an iris in sight, leaving only the white of it visible. Similar to the villagers in Remire who were possessed by Solon’s magic. Was he, too, an Agarthan?

The man turned to Kronya with a scowl. “You’re taking up too much time. We must leave.”

“Huh? R-Right!”

Kronya reached out for the man, but Dimitri wasn’t prepared to let her get away. The prince took his lance, aiming it, and chucked the weapon forward like a javelin. However, before it could even reach her, Kronya and the man disappeared into thin air. The lance zoomed past where they stood and, instead, was implanted into the trunk of a nearby tree.

No! They had gotten away!

“What just happened?”

“Who the hell was that guy! He was so scary!”

“Everyone, called down,” Byleth shouted. “We’ll figure this out once we get back to the monastery. Let’s hurry, before anything else comes to attack us!”

The Lions and Deer followed the professor’s orders accordingly. Everyone began to file out, including the captain who was, presently, being bombarded by the others over his safety. Dimitri still stood from where he was, staring at the spot where Kronya and the strange man had suddenly vanished. The crunching of the grass beneath his feet brought his attention back from whatever dark pit he felt himself falling into. He looked up to see Byleth staring back at him.

“Dimitri, we have to leave,” he said. “We can tell Claude about this later, but for now we must return to the monastery.”

The prince said nothing at first. He simply glanced back to where Kronya was, where he nearly finished what he had started nearly a month ago, before turning back to the professor and nodding.

There was a lot to discuss when they got back.


	28. Stronger than the Gods - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri and Byleth make it back to the monastery only to face Kronya once again.

The talk back at the monastery was anything but pleasant. Claude was surprised to hear Kronya had shown up out of nowhere, though it wasn’t entirely unexpected. He was a fool to think one little change could alter their fates. Still, he was grateful Dimitri stood his ground against her. However, to hear Thales was now in the picture made things more complicated.

Nonetheless, they had plenty of work to do.

“Now that she’s been revealed to the whole monastery, there’s no way she’ll come back,” Claude explained. “All that’s left to do is track her down and attack.”

“How do we do that?” Byleth asked.

The archer smirked. “Glad you asked, Teach.”

Claude moved from his bed to scrounge around the room. After rustling through tons of unorganized sheets and books, he came back to the other two before laying down a map of Fodlan on the floor. The professor immediately recognized it as the map they used to discuss plans for the war. The red circles and lines marking each significant battle were slightly faded though still visible, but what popped out the most was the fresh, red circle placed near the monastery.

“This is where we’ll find Kronya _and_ Solon by the end of the month,” the archer said. “We originally had only recently discovered their location last time through gossip from the Knights, but seeing as we know now where they would be I figured it’d be best to get a head start on the church. That way there’d be no interference.”

Dimitri frowned. “But then how soon are we to depart? How would we even know they’ve reached the forest by the time we arrive?”

“We’ll likely have to do some scouting. Right about now, they should still be close to Garreg Mach, and-”

“Say no more.”

The prince, not even waiting for a response from his professor or fellow house leader, hurried out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and Claude and Byleth were left to exchange a look for a brief moment. The younger couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

“Make sure he doesn’t kill her just yet, Teach. There’s still a lot that needs to happen before we can take on Edelgard and the Empire.”

Byleth huffed. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he responded.

Without a second thought the professor chased after Dimitri. Claude watched him run through the door, a deep ache bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

Something felt off about all of this.

* * *

By the time Byleth found Dimitri again the two were standing just outside of the city wall of Garreg Mach behind a group of trees and bushes. The sun was nearly done setting over the horizon, shooting a mix of orange, red, and blue into the night sky. But just as the professor opened his mouth to scold the prince, Dimitri turned to him with his finger placed over his mouth in a “shush” motion.

“Feel free to lecture me later,” he whispered. “But we must remain quiet.”

The prince then pointed over past the greenery to where Kronya, the strange man, and the Flame Emperor stood. Byleth nearly gasped in his surprise. This was bad.

“Oh, thank you!” Kronya shouted. “You saved me!”

The man glared at her. “If you were to die, then that loathsome brat and his little pets would be able to foil all of our plans! Preventing that was my only aim. I’m afraid you must remain, Kronya. There is something I need you to do.”

Kronya nodded happily. “Oh, of course. I’m always happy to cooperate with Solon. Leave it to me!”

The Flame Emperor let out a ‘tch’. “How annoying,” they muttered.

“Flame Emperor. Is she...offending you? Unfortunately we cannot take our eyes off her, so there is nothing to be done,” the man said. “You are our greatest creation. We used the defiled beast’s blood as the fuel to your flame, that you may burn even the gods. Now is the time to cleanse Fodlan of that power, and bring forth our salvation, and we shan’t allow this meddling child to interfere with our plans.”

“There will be no salvation for you and your kind. Those responsible for such gruesome deeds in Duscur and Enbarr. On that, the King and I can agree.”

“All so that you may acquire the strength you need. All for a purpose...”

**“King... Surely they must be speaking of Claude, yes?”** Sothis asked. To that, Byleth could only shrug.

The professor was much too focused on the anger he could see burning in the prince’s eyes. Dimitri seemed ready to pounce on the three of them at any moment. Byleth held a hand out in front of him in the case he suddenly rushed between them.

“We should wait,” he said. “They outnumber us, and possibly are stronger than we could ever hope to be. If we just go back and talk to Claude-”

“Claude does nothing but sit back while we are out risking our lives to protect Fodlan,” the boy hissed. “If we don’t act now, we’ll miss our chance!”

The sound of metal clanking caught their attention, and they turned once again to the three suspects. The Flame Emperor, their face hidden behind that cryptic mask, stared straight ahead at them.

“I believe someone is watching us,” they said.

The man scoffed. “No matter. It is not as if they can do anything. There have always been rats in the walls, and there always will be.”

“...”

“Let us leave, for now.”

The Flame Emperor nodded, walking closer towards the strange man and Kronya, before the three of them disappeared into a similar flash of purple light. When the coast seemed to be clear enough, Dimitri and Byleth stepped out of hiding and towards where the three vanished.

An audible gasp escaped the prince, his hand moving to cover his slack jaw in shock as he bent down. Byleth watched him carefully as he picked up a small dagger that was laying on the stone ground just where the Flame Emperor stood.

“No... This dagger...”

The prince held the dagger up, examining it, before pulling it close to his chest. His eyes appeared glued to it, as if he was possessed. Something was off.

“...Dimitri?” the professor asked. “What’s wrong?”

“It...no. Never mind. It... That would be impossible.” Dimitri took in a deep breath and sighed before turning to Byleth. “Professor, those are the ones we must destroy. They’re the bastards who killed my family, and nearly took Captain Jeralt’s life as well. For now, let us return to the monastery. Hopefully Claude could explain this whole mess. As for the Flame Emperor’s dagger...”

The prince hesitated, glancing down towards the dagger again. “I’ll hold on to it for the time being.”

Byleth gave Dimitri a nod. The two made their way back towards Garreg Mach in silence. The professor noticed the prince’s gaze never leaving that of the dagger, and he prayed Dimitri wasn’t able to make any connections.

For his sake, and for Claude’s.


	29. Stronger than the Gods - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle in the Sealed Forest doesn't go as planned. Even worse, Claude is in no way prepared for what awaited him back at the monastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is wondering why the previous chapter seemed shorter than usual it's because I was saving all the best bits for this update. Hope you guys enjoy because everything goes downhill from here!

Claude let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Figured as much... Still, we shouldn’t worry. In about a week or so word will spread that Kronya and Solon have been seen in the Sealed Forest and the Knights will start investigating. We’ll head out before any of that happens.” He then gave a wink to the two of them. “And, of course, I’ll be joining you both.”

“But Claude, your injury-” the professor attempted to protest.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s not like it’ll kill me going into battle this one time, right?”

Byleth scowled and shook his head. “I cannot risk that. The fate of Fodlan rests on our shoulders. Including yours. How would we prepare for battle once the war comes? I may be a good strategist, Claude, but I am nowhere near perfect. I don’t want to rely on Sothis’s power to bring my students back from the dead!”

The professor then turned to Dimitri, who stood in total silence. He couldn’t help but bite his lip as he followed the blond’s gaze down towards his pocket where the dagger rested. Something was going on with the prince. Something Byleth didn’t like at all.

“I’ll be fine, Teach. Look, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll stay closer towards the rear guard. That way I’m out of harm’s way and still fighting alongside you. I feel bad making you guys do all the work. I’m basically almost totally healed, so I might as well jump back into the action, right?”

Byleth sighed. “Fine. Not like I can stop you anyway.” This made Claude laugh.

“Glad to see you’re learning! Now, let’s talk strategy...”

* * *

It was just before the sun rose in the sky that Dimitri and Byleth gathered the Golden Deer and Blue Lions students at the entrance hall of the monastery. Some students from the Black Eagles, Linhardt and Caspar, also joined the fray. Linhardt joined in simple curiosity, wanting to know more about the people he heard attack Jeralt, and Caspar came along in his excitement for bringing cold, hard justice to Solon and his lackeys. Byleth was hesitant to let them come along, but with Claude’s reassurance he allowed it.

The trip to the Sealed Forest was a rather short one. The land rested not far from the monastery, just beyond its walls, but just how close the forest was made Claude suspicious. No doubt this might have been sacred land to the Nabateans, just as the Red Canyon and the abandoned chapel once was. Now that he had a good, second glance at the place, it sure seemed that way with the columns, platforms, and immense magical energy surrounding this place.

Ah, but there was no time to dwell in conspiracies.

Standing in the center of the stone platform was Kronya in her full Agarthan glory, freakishly pale skin and all, with demonic beasts standing just off to the side of her. How typical of them. If they needed goons so bad, why not use something that was at least conscious?

“Welcome! Welcome!” Kronya cheered with a twisted smile. “My, my. It didn’t take you as long to find us this time around, did it Your Majesty?”

Hilda shook her head. “‘Majesty’? Damn, she doesn’t hold back...”

“You will treat _His Highness_ with respect!” Ingrid growled at her, threateningly jabbing her lance towards Kronya.

The Agarthan let out a laugh, her gaze falling onto Claude. “Oh, that’s right, you still haven’t told anyone! Not that it matters. You’ll die here regardless. I’ll make sure of that!”

With a wave of her hand, Kronya’s army of demonic beasts charged towards the Lions and Deer. Byleth turned to his students.

“Everyone! Keep the beasts away from me and Claude! We’re moving to take Kronya out!” Then, the professor turned to Dimitri. “Your Highness, you’re with us.”

Dimitri nodded. “Understood, Professor!” Byleth nodded in return.

“Okay, let’s move out!”

The students all let out a fierce battle cry before charging forward. As he, Byleth, and Dimitri ran to face Kronya in the center of the forest, Claude watched in a brief moment of rejoice as his classmates all worked together. Lions, Deer, and Eagles all coming together for a greater cause. It gave Claude hope, _courage_ , and he prayed to the gods that such a bond would last through the harsher moments of the war. If not, all his work would have been for nothing.

After cutting through demonic beast after demonic beast, dodging and rolling to avoid rather lethal attacks from the corrupted humans, the trio finally made it to Kronya. The Agarthan smirked at them, her eyes narrowed, and she let out a terrible laughter.

“We meet again,” she said to them. “Too bad I’ll be the only one walking away unscathed this time.”

Claude chuckled, knocking his bow. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Kronya. It’s three against one. You may as well give up.”

“Oh, but Claude, you know neither of us can have that. You need me to die here, and we need you to die here. But that was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?”

“Enough of this foolishness!” Dimitri screamed. “You and your filthy kind will pay for all the pain you have brought to Fodlan!”

The prince charged at the Agarthan in full force, lance grasped tightly in his hands, but just as he thrusted his weapon forward to pierce through her heart, Dimitri was knocked away effortlessly by a miasma spell. He let out a tough grunt as he was pushed to the ground, his head crashing hard onto the solid stone beneath their feet.

Claude cried out, “Dimitri!” before rushing over to the prince.

However, Kronya stepped into his path, stopping him momentarily. She nodded over to her right, to which Claude’s gaze followed. Above them was Solon standing atop a small hill overseeing the grounds. He looked down, eyes locking with Claude’s, and grinned.

_Gods damn it._

“We were fully prepared for your assault here in the forest,” Kronya explained. “You see, Claude, the effects of space-time do not apply to us. That was why we were able to intercept the professor’s attempt to kill me when I killed his father in your first life.”

Byleth gasped. “You _what_?” he hissed.

Ignoring him, she went on. “When we awoke back in our underground city, alive, we knew something had happened. Perhaps it was that loathsome goddess of yours, maybe even fate, but either way we knew time had been reversed, and we were given a second chance to conquer Fodlan and destroy all your saints held dear. However...”

One of the sharp tendrils attached to Kronya struck forward, cutting Claude across the chest. The pain was immense, and the archer fell to the ground with a loud groan. Claude raised his hand to the wound, attempting to ease the singeing sting of what was no doubt a burning toxin embedded in her blade. Yet, it was to no avail. His body was slowly growing numb save for the icky feeling of his own blood, so warm and moist against his skin, rushing past his fingers and down his torso.

Kronya stood above him, her sickeningly sweet smile never fading. “We knew once you took the Death Knight captive that we weren’t the only ones aware of this sudden twist of fate. At first we thought it was that professor of yours, so we watched him closely, but your slip up at Gronder was all we needed to know that it was you. You had never failed to win before, leading your class to victory, and to see you fall when facing the mad king was enough proof for us that you, too, were sent back.”

Claude didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know if he had the strength to speak. With every second, he felt his body grow weaker. His vision started to blur, and all he could register now was the unbearable pain. Where was Byleth? Was Dimitri still okay? Where were the others? Were they still fighting the demonic beasts? He felt so, so tired. He just wanted to rest. Just a little shut eye. Surely he would be granted that at the very least, right?

The last thing Claude heard before passing out was the screams of the professor echoing through the forest, a golden light blinding him before everything faded into darkness...

* * *

When Claude woke up, the first thing he noticed was the plushy comfort beneath him. It was too different from the solid stone he remembered laying on when Kronya attacked him for him to not react. Then, suddenly remembering Kronya and Solon being alive, he jolted forward with a loud gasp. He had to stop them!

“Gah!” he cried, his body aching from the sudden movement. Right. He was almost cut in half by that woman’s tendril.

Claude glanced down, expecting to find a large, infected scar crossing his chest, but to his surprise he saw bandages wrapped carefully around the wound. A large red stain was the only other piece of evidence signaling that he survived the attack.

So if he was in a bed, and his wound was taken care of...

“Claude...? Is that you...?”

The archer’s head spun, both surprised and worried by the groggy tone of the prince’s voice. He was most definitely in the infirmary back at the monastery, and Dimitri happened to have been hospitalized as well.

“Dimitri? What... What happened?” he asked.

“I’m not too sure. I only remember Kronya, and then...someone attacked me, and I can’t remember anything after that.”

Claude sighed. “That was Solon. He must’ve knocked you out with that miasma spell. I...didn’t expect to see him there so soon.”

Dimitri let out a hum, carefully sitting himself up in the bed. Claude found bandages wrapped around the right side of the prince’s skull, causing him a tad bit of discomfort just seeing that side of his face covered, as well as wrappings covering his mid-torso. “Do you think they knew of our plan?”

To that, Claude scoffed. “Kronya admitted they knew everything. This whole time...I thought I was two steps ahead of them. Turns out it was the other way around.”

The other boy frowned. “I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have run without thinking. I was just... No, that doesn’t excuse my actions. I ruined everything.” 

“No, you didn’t. The plan was ruined the moment I ever even thought of it,” Claude said. “They had me all figured out the moment I set foot back here. They knew I came from the future and was trying to stop the war, or at least change the outcome. I should’ve just let history take its course.”

Silence quickly followed after that. Dimitri wasn’t sure what he could say to comfort his fellow house leader, or if he should say anything at all. Still, he wanted to say _something_ at least.

But before he could even get the chance, a knock came at the door of the infirmary. It was openly shortly after, and standing in the doorway was Byleth.

Byleth, with his signature mint green hair and seafoam-colored eyes, stood there smiling in relief.

“Claude! Dimitri! Thank goodness, you’re both awake,” he said.

“Teach!”

“P-Professor!?”

Byleth was almost taken aback by their unified gasps of surprise. Shortly after, he fell into a gentle laughter.

“It’s the hair, isn’t it?” he asked. Then, with a sigh, he told them, “I’m not entirely sure on how to explain it. I suppose...Sothis and I are one now? It’s rather confusing to be quite honest.”

“Not at all, Teach!” Claude exclaimed. “Well, maybe for his princeliness here, but no need to explain the whole scenario to me. But I am rather curious as to what exactly happened I...ya know.”

“Ah, right. Well, while Kronya was distracted by you I was speaking to Sothis. We were trying to come up with the best possible solution to save you as well as His Highness from Kronya, and still take down Solon. The only thing she could come up with was joining her power with my own...”

“And so... You were gifted with the goddess’s abilities, changing your appearance, and you were able to take them both out,” Dimitri summarized.

“Exactly. After my transformation, Kronya and Solon were easy to defeat. And though I may have changed on the outside, I promise I am still the same professor you know.”

Claude laughed. “Yeah, except you’re already smiling more than usual.” Byleth frowned, though it was anything but a genuine one.

“What? Am I not allowed to be happy that my students are alive and well?” he asked playfully. “Guess I should have left you to rot in that forest after all.”

“Ah, what? Geez, Teach, no need to be _that_ cruel.”

The three of them all chuckled at that. When their laughter died down, they began to discuss their next plan. There was very little time left until the time for war came, and they should use it wisely. This was all Claude’s idea, of course, but it was quickly rebutted by Byleth who claimed the two boys should spend the next few days resting. As it turns out, Claude had been right about Kronya using some sort of poison to nearly kill him. The same poison Claude remembered seeing on the dagger she used in his first life to kill Jeralt. To think he nearly shared the same fate...

At least it got him to agree to get some actual rest, thinking about that, but he would still come up with as many solutions as possible. He would not be outwitted again by the Agarthans. Though Solon and Kronya were gone, Thales was still a problem. As was Edelgard. Fodlan would not know peace until both of them were defeated one way or the other.

After a couple of days of recovery for both the prince and the king, the trio met one another in Claude’s dorm room. The three sat on the floor across from one another with Claude’s map of Fodlan laying in the center, still marked with every battle and landmark for the war.

“Alright. Now, seeing as we’ve defeated Kronya and Solon earlier than last time, we have a few extra weeks to start planning for the Flame Emperor’s attack.”

“When will that be?” Dimitri asked, though a little too eagerly.

“That’d be the end of next month. Teach, has Rhea talked to you yet about some sort of ceremony now that you’ve combined your power with that of Sothis yet?”

Byleth nodded. “Yes, in the Holy Tomb, but she wanted to wait until the very last day of the Pegasus Moon to perform the ceremony. Something about Seiros receiving her divine revelation on that day as well.”

_ Why the fuck would she think anyone would believe that? _ Claude thought to himself.

“Right... Well, it just so happens that the ceremony ends up not working—don’t bother asking how because I know just as much as you do about the semantics of it—and when that happens, the Flame Emperor and their goons show up to try to get ya on their side.”

“And I’m assuming the Professor’s answer was ‘no’, leading them to declare war instead.”

“Bingo, your princeliness!” Claude exclaimed. “So, to get the upper hand, here’s what I’m thinking-”

A knock suddenly came at the door, interrupting Claude’s battle strategy, and before anyone could get a word in the door was thrown open. Standing in the hall was Dedue with a heavily worried look on his face.

“Your Highness, pardon the interruption, but there’s trouble in the cathedral!” he shouted. “The Flame Emperor has brought the Imperial Army to siege the Holy Tomb!”

“What!?”

Byleth and Dimitri turned to Claude, who could only stare back in horrified surprise. Without a second thought he grabbed the map, tossing it to the other side of the room, and stood up from the floor.

“Come on, let’s hurry!” he said.

The other two nodded, quickly following his lead in preparing for battle. Claude is quick to grab his bow from the corner of his room, as well as his quiver and arrows, before heading out. The three of them follow Dedue out and towards the cathedral. As they ran, the sound of students and staff alike rang through the air. Screams of terror echoed off the monastery walls as they all ran as far as they could to safety.

When they finally arrived, it was just as Dedue had told them. The Deer, Lions, and Eagles along with Rhea all stood firm, their weapons ready, against the Flame Emperor with their army behind them. A man with brown hair, sharp eyes, and a crooked smile stepped forward. Claude recognized him as Metodey, the Imperial general who accompanied Edelgard in her siege of Garreg Mach.

“Don’t move, any of you! If you move, all of your lives will be forfeit,” he shouted. “We’ll be taking possession of everything in the Holy Tomb, now.”

“You do not know the way into the Holy Tomb. Only those entrusted by the goddess can-”

“Oh, trust me, we won’t be needing any ‘divine guidance’ to some dusty basement,” the man mocked. “All we need is that professor of yours. If he joins us, we’ll just be on our merry little way.”

Rhea certainly didn’t take too kindly to that. She let out a growl as she turned to the three houses. More specifically, to Byleth.

“Professor, you and your students must show these heretics the powerful wrath of the goddess! Quickly, before they invade the Holy Tomb!” she shouted.

“Professor,” called the Flame Emperor. “If you join us, we promise to leave the Holy Tomb as well as Garreg Mach alone. Refuse, and I will have no choice but to lay siege on not just the monastery, but the Church of Seiros as a whole.”

The room fell dead silent, and all eyes were now on the professor. Pressing his lips together into a thin line, Byleth looked over to Claude, who returned a worried gaze. The message was clear: defy the Flame Emperor at all costs.

With that, Byleth then turned back to the Emperor and scowled, unsheathing the Sword of the Creator from its scabbard. “I will not,” he said. “So long as Sothis’s power rests within me, The Church of Seiros, as well as all of Garreg Mach, is under my protection.”

The Flame Emperor sighed. “Then I will have no choice.” They turned to their men, sages and knights and soldiers and mercenaries alike, and said without a hint of mercy, “Kill them all.”

After that, everything was thrown into chaos.

The Imperial army charged towards the three houses, of which had no hesitation to fight back. As Byleth shouted his orders, the students followed. Their goal was to protect the Holy Tomb and prevent any enemy soldier from passing through their ranks. As the Lions, Deer, and what remained of the Eagles carried out the order, the professor turned to Claude and Dimitri.

“You two should go for the Flame Emperor and that general,” he said. “I’ll try to keep them out of the Holy Tomb, but do not hesitate to call for any help.”

Claude nodded, giving the professor a thumbs up. “You got it, Teach. Though I think we can take them on our own.” His gaze turned to Dimitri. “Ain’t that right, your princeliness?”

Dimitri, too, nodded in response. “Yes. We will make them pay dearly for the suffering they have caused.”

Byleth bit his lip, not entirely sure if he liked the prince’s answer. However, he also trusted Claude to keep His Highness in line. And so he gave one last motion, a smile to wish them luck, before the three of them parted.

Now, the fate of Fodlan was up to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anyone gonna tell me that Metodey and APH Italy shared the same fucking voice actor, or was I just supposed to find that on a YouTube video of the FE3H cast singing myself? Talk about a fucking range dude...
> 
> Btw, that bit about Ingrid telling Kronya to show some respect is cause they thought she was referring to Dimitri and not Claude. In terms of titles, it's disrespectful to call a member of the royal family a title that doesn't align with their position. For instance: calling a queen "Your Highness" instead of "Your Majesty" is seen as disrespectful, but even calling a princess "Your Majesty" instead of "Your Highness" can also be seen as disrespectful.
> 
> I don't know what you'll do with that fun little fact but there it is.


	30. To War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flame Emperor's identity is revealed.

Claude and Dimitri made a beeline for the Flame Emperor. Passing by soldier after soldier, taking out any who dared to get in their way, the duo was determined to end this battle. However, just as the Flame Emperor was in sight, Metodey stepped into their path.

With a wicked grin he said, “I’m told it’s fine to kill those who resist. Now then, how shall I cook you?”

Dimitri grit his teeth. “Claude, will you be alright on your own?” he asked.

“What? Uh, yeah, I should be- Wait, Dimitri, what are you planning?”

The prince kept his eyes ahead, focused solely on the masked villain that stood so close and yet so far. “I will run up ahead and face the Flame Emperor while you distract him.”

Claude froze in his tracks, his eyes growing wide. “Dimitri, that’s fucking suicide!” he shouted. Though not entirely true, as the prince was stronger than any being he had ever faced, he could not afford to let the other face Edelgard. “I can’t let you face them by yourself.”

Dimitri scoffed. “If I die here then so be it,” he growled. “I only ask that you lead my Lions through this terrible war.”

Without waiting for Claude to respond, Dimitri charged full force ahead. He took no caution as he shoved Metodey to the side, knocking the man off his feet and causing him to fall face first onto the ground, and running towards the Flame Emperor. Claude shouted to him, begging for him to come back, but his cries fell upon deaf ears. Dimitri was determined to kill the Flame Emperor, and Claude only hoped he did so before learning who stood behind that mask.

When Dimitri successfully made it, he stood across from the Flame Emperor, his body tense and ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

“So, it was you,” he growled. “You are the one behind the incident in Duscur!”

They huffed in annoyance. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“Save the act! Claude has revealed you to us. I will not allow you to do to the people of Fodlan what you have done to the innocent lives taken four years ago!”

“It is clear you will not listen. Stay silent and fight.”

Dimitri felt enraged. His jaw clenched as he felt all the blood in his body rushing in a fit of adrenaline. The prince prepared his lance and took a stance.

“So you want to turn your eyes away from the lives you have trampled? Bastard! You are a monster. The lowliest beast I have ever known,” he told the Flame Emperor. “Very well then. Prepare to die!”

And just like that, the prince found himself clashing blades with the masked villain. The Flame Emperor wielded a mighty axe, its head like glimmer obsidian, and were it not for Dimitri’s god-like strength it was guaranteed he would have been cut down in a blink of an eye. The boy met the masked madman’s attack with his own, deflecting the axe with his steel lance and cutting away at the Flame Emperor once given an opening.

The bastard’s armor was thick, but with just a short reach of his arm did Dimitri successfully cut them across the face. Their mask was split open and collapsed to the ground with a gentle _click, click_.

_Now I’ve got you..._

Dimitri once again stood firmly, his feet planted in the ground in preparation of a counter attack, until his eyes laid upon the face of his enemy.

Standing there, dressed in the Flame Emperor’s attire in all her glory, was Edelgard.

Edelgard. His sister. His friend from a childhood nearly long forgotten.

No. This couldn’t be. This... This was some kind of joke, a terrible prank, it had to be!

Edelgard... She was the one who caused all this suffering? She was the one behind Flayn’s kidnapping, behind Kronya and Solon, behind Duscur?

 _She_ was the Flame Emperor?

The gentle quiet that fell over the room was suddenly deafening. Dimitri could not see anything other than a dark shade of red covering his vision as pained, blue eyes met indifferent violet. He could not hear the shocked and horrified gasps of his peers, or the gentle call of Claude’s voice behind him.

The prince’s eyes fell to the ground, and for a moment no one moved a muscle. Then, a horrible laughter slowly began to echo throughout the room. At first, it was merely a demented chuckle, but with every passing second it grew more and more into what one could only describe as a senile kind of laughter.

Such a haunting sound came from none other than the prince himself.

With a scream, so broken and loud, Dimitri said, “Is this some kind of twisted joke!?”

Claude watched on in terror, his eyes darting between Dimitri and Edelgard. A few soldiers that remained from the battle rushed along to guard her, their weapons pointed at the prince. But Dimitri did not seem to heed the warning.

Instead, the prince brandished his weapon and boldly stepped closer. His foot easily crushed what remained of the princess’s mask, shattering it into hundreds of small pieces. Claude could not let this go on.

The archer pressed forward, grabbing at Dimitri’s shoulder. “Dimitri, hold on a minute-”

However, he was only met with a forceful shove away. Claude felt himself falling back, additionally tripping over his own feet in a sorry attempt to regain his balance, but was thankfully caught by Byleth. He looked up at his professor in worry. Byleth looked back, his eyes dark and almost cold. It screamed to him, _I told you so_.

Meanwhile, Dimitri continued to approach Edelgard, a deep growl emanating from his throat as he muttered to her from across the floor, “I’ve been looking for you...” He let out another deep, guttural chuckle.

“I will take that head from your shoulders-” His grip on his lance tightened, and his smile turned crooked. “-and hang it from the gates of Enbarr!”

Dimitri then immediately ran at her, but her guards were quick to intervene. Such a shame they were no match for the prince as he knocked them all back with a simple swing of his weapon, making each and every one fall unconscious to the floor. Then, pulling his arm back, he chucked his lance at the Imperial princess.

Edelgard gasped. Her muscles went rigid, and she felt entirely frozen just as the projectile whizzed effortlessly past her shoulder. Just a few centimeters to the left and she would have been dead. For this, she felt lucky.

Yet, this miscalculation seemed to have no effect on the prince’s drive whatsoever. Dimitri continued to pummel his way through more Imperial soldiers, even going as far as to bash one’s skull against the stainless tile of the cathedral, when a stray footsoldier ran towards him.

“Stop right there!” he shouted.

The man lifted his sword above his head, letting out a firm shout. As expected, his efforts, too, were futile.

Dimitri reached out to grab the soldier by his face, his gaze still fixated on Edelgard, and crushed the man’s skull with his bare hands. As he felt the warm blood ooze down his arm and soak the sleeves of his uniform, Dimitri gave Edelgard a crazed smile accompanied by a rather sinister snicker.

Claude could not let this go on.

“Dimitri! That’s enough!” he cried.

If the prince heard him, he gave no indication of it and instead took to carelessly tossing the deceased soldier to the side to stand against Edelgard.

“Before I break your neck, there is one thing I must ask you...”

Edelgard hissed, “I have no time for this nonsense.”

“You _will_ answer my question!” the prince growled. “Flame Emperor. No... Edelgard. Tell me: why did you cause such a tragedy?”

The princess gave him no response. This only fueled the other’s anger.

“You killed your own mother, and yet you haven’t even had the decency to stop and consider the reasons behind your actions. Have you!?”

“I already told you I had nothing to do with that!”

Dimitri scoffed. “It was foolish to think I could reason with a lowly beast.” The prince stepped forward, almost dashing to reach Edelgard to make her pay for her crimes. This needed to be done. Only then could Fodlan, and hopefully those beyond the grave, could achieve peace at last.

He could hear them now. The voices of those who were long gone whispering in his ear. They were telling him to do it. To take Edelgard’s life in his hands and crush it before she could do any more harm.

He had to kill her. She had brought so much suffering. She had to die. She had to-

“I said that’s enough!”

The prince didn’t even have the chance to get closer to the princess. He fell to the ground in an instant as Claude tackled him, preventing him from reaching his goal. He glared down at the older boy with spite.

“Claude, release me at once!” he hissed. “Do you not recall what she has done? To those in Duscur, to all of Fodlan? Allow me this chance and I can stop the war here and now!”

Dimitri then began to attempt his escape from the other’s grasp, but Claude would not yield. With every limb the prince managed to get free he would simply grab at it and pull it closer to his own body. He could not allow Dimitri to kill Edelgard. Not in this state. He knew he was only lashing out, attempting to please the ghosts that haunted him for years, but he would only grow more mad if he allowed him to take her life now. Though he could not hold the prince off for very long.

“Lady Edelgard,” Hubert uttered. “It is time for us to leave.”

“The let us away.”

Claude tried his best to hold on just a little while longer, but eventually he, too, fell victim to the crown prince’s strength. Dimitri managed to get one of his arms free long enough to shove Claude away from him, but by that time it was already too late.

In a flash of purple light, Hubert and Edelgard disappeared, the only evidence of their presence being the piles of dead Imperial soldiers who fell at the hands of Dimitri’s combined rage and raw power.

All that was left was to prepare for war.

* * *

The monastery was thrown into chaos in the weeks following Edelgard’s betrayal. The students were begrudgingly getting prepared to go to war with all three houses acting under Byleth’s command in accordance with Rhea’s declaration. Linhardt and Caspar needed no convincing to join their side. Though the taller of the two gave a rather bland explanation for turning his back on the Empire in regards to how little he cared about his father’s legacy, Caspar was much more passionate in declaring his refusal to allow Edelgard to get away with what she’s done as the Flame Emperor. Two more people who were on their side.

Ferdinand, however, was nowhere to be seen, and it was clear he had joined the side of Hubert and Edelgard. No doubt they would meet again at the Great Bridge, and Claude would have to either persuade or kill him. But that was the least of the boy’s worries.

Since Edelgard’s escape and declaration of war against the Church of Seiros, he could not get a word out of Dimitri.

Partially due to the fact he was much too nervous to approach the rather deranged blond, for every time he wandered into a room and found the prince there, gritting his teeth and staring into emptiness, a pang of guilt plagued his heart. But, there was also the fact of whenever Claude built the courage to face His Highness, the other would simply ignore him in favor of muttering quietly to his ghosts. If not that, he was too busy breaking the practice dummies in a fit of rage at the training grounds in preparation of the Empire’s invasion. And so, Claude was easily brushed aside.

The brunette had never felt so disheartened in his life. He knew not what to say to console the prince, and to think the two shared a tender moment together in the Goddess Tower barely even a month ago only poured salt into the wound. He was finally making some progress only for his secrecy to blow up back in his face. He knew he should apologize to Dimitri, but how could he when the prince never listened to a word he said?

That was all Claude could think about as he walked beside Byleth, the two of them going over battle strategies for the Empire’s siege on Garreg Mach, when he spotted the other house leader standing alone in the courtyard. He took a pause to study Dimitri, hopelessly praying anything in his demeanor would change. But as always the boy stood in silence. If he tried to talk to him, his voice would fall upon deaf ears.

But enough was enough.

The archer waved a hand at his professor, who watched in both worry and interest as Claude approached Dimitri a little too casually for his liking.

“Hey, your princeliness,” Claude greeted, giving the best he could do in terms of non-awkward civility. “Couldn’t help but notice you just standing around. Usually you’re off training. Mind telling me what’s up?”

As expected, Dimitri said nothing to him. He did, however, turn his head to stare at Claude, which was the most the archer ever got in the past two weeks.

When he continued to remain silent, Claude followed up with another feeble attempt at small talk.

“Nevermind I guess. Uh... How’s training going? Think we’re ready to take on the Empire yet?”

Dimitri sharply exhaled. “Matters not. I will kill that wretched woman, even if it takes me until my final breath...”

_ Holy shit... He actually spoke! _

Claude wasn’t sure if he should consider this a good or a bad thing, remembering all too well how the prince’s goal to defeating the Empire went last time, but it was better than being ignored, he supposed. Either way, he let out a small, nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, but uh... I wouldn’t go  _ that _ far, if you get what I’m sayin’,” he said. “I wanna take down Edelgard just as much as you do, but-”

“If that were in any way true, you would have told me when you had the chance.”

“Huh?”

“I had my suspicions, especially after I found a dagger that the Flame Emperor was carrying. One that just so happened to be the same one I gave to Edelgard when we were children. To think she was the one behind it all... Now that the truth has come out, I have no other choice but to avenge those who have fallen. But you...” Dimitri turned in full to Claude, his once brilliantly bright eyes darkening even in the glimmering sunshine around them. “You knew, and yet said  _ nothing _ .”

The low growl in the prince’s voice made the hair on the back of Claude’s neck stand. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Dimitri, I... I’m sorry, you’re right, I should have told you, but I just...” Claude paused for a moment. “...I was scared. Scared of what might happen if I told you too soon. Knowing Edelgard was the Flame Emperor drove you mad. Killing her became your sole purpose, and it was what got you killed at Gronder. I promise, I wanted to tell you, but your safety was more important!”

“Liar...”

“I’m not lying! I swear on my life that everything I did was not just to protect Fodlan, but to protect you as well!”

“Do not feed me your lies!” Dimitri snarled. His pupils contracted like that of a hungry, wild beast staring down at its prey, revealing only the blue of his eyes. Claude’s body jumped at the sudden boom in the prince’s tone. “You were fully capable of stopping her, and yet you did nothing! If my sanity was the price to pay for peace then so be it! You are nothing more than a traitor, Claude.”

“D-Dimitri, I-”

“Save your breath. I will have that woman’s head, with or without your help, and I shall not let anything stand in my way. Least of all you...”

Without another word, the prince then stormed off towards the training grounds. Claude could only watch paralyzed with guilt and fear as Dimitri left. Byleth, who stood witness to the whole thing, carefully approached the archer and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Claude, are you alright?” he asked.

It took him a moment, but he nodded in reply. “Yeah. I... I’m alright. I just...” Claude bit his lip, hoping the pain would be enough to distract his mind from the stinging of tears welling in his eyes. “Excuse me.”

Gently pushing the professor away, Claude, too, left the scene to retreat to his room. He ignored the few students he passed along the way—it was better that they didn’t see him like this—and slammed the door shut as soon as he made it to the dorms. Now peacefully alone, the brunette allowed himself to let go.

The tears he had been holding back were set free, his emotions hitting him like a wave as his body slowly collapsed onto the floor and shook violently in his sobbing. He had messed up, and it was too late to fix things. Not until the war was nearly over. Now, in his solitude, all he could do was cry and think:

_ What have I done? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert Scooby voice* Ruh roh!


	31. Five Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude waits five long years for Byleth's return, but tales of a monster rampaging across Fodlan have recently caught his interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly! We've officially reached over 10K guys! WOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!
> 
> Thank you all so much reading, commenting, and giving kudos guys! I appreciate all the support you've given me! We've officially reached the halfway mark of the story, and I promise it gets good!
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this update!

The siege on Garreg Mach was devastating.

Though the monastery had done well to fend off the Imperial army, in the end, Edelgard’s soldiers easily overpowered their own. Garreg Mach had been completely destroyed by the Empire, leaving the students there no choice but to retreat to their homes. Even worse: Rhea was nowhere to be found, and Byleth had still gone missing.

In the five years that followed the Battle of Garreg Mach, Claude von Riegan had took his rightful place as Duke von Riegan of the Leicester Alliance after his grandfather’s passing about a year after war was declared on the Church. A few months after that, the news of Crown Prince Dimitri’s murder of his uncle and his execution, as well as Cornelia’s takeover, spread like wildfire across Fodlan. People were beginning to lose hope, and though the war was at a stalemate it was clear that the Alliance, too, would fall to the Empire.

However, Claude had refused to give up.

As soon as the rumors of a beast tearing through the wilderness and attacking Imperial soldiers reached his ears, the duke quickly began making expeditions across Fodlan. If he had to wait five whole years for the professor’s return to end the war, he might as well go hunting for the prince. Nothing like a head start to bring peace to a whole continent.

Meanwhile, Claude was fully enjoying his growth back into his adult body. The awkward hormones that came with teenagehood slowly withered away as hardened muscle replaced baby fat and the stubble of his beard began growing in. The duke had never felt such relief before!

Okay, that’s a lie, but he was glad nonetheless to be an adult again.

Anyway, back to the whole Dimitri thing.

Though being the duke of the Alliance came with its hardship, especially during a war of all things, Claude still took whatever time he had available searching for the prince. If the rumors held any merit at all, it would seem he was making a beeline for Enbarr, the capital of the Empire. No doubt he was after Edelgard if that was the case. However, smaller whispers amongst villagers quickly debunked that theory. Some of them came from witnesses too close to Fhirdiad or the Red Canyon, some even miles off towards the northern regions of Faerghus, but anything appeared to be possible at this point. Claude would just have to take certain accounts with a grain of salt.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed by a few of his Deer.

For one, Hilda constantly nagged at him to get some rest and give up the search. Claude would not listen for obvious reasons, but the pink haired warrior couldn’t help but feel concerned for her leader and friend.

“Claude,” she said to him one day, “when will you just accept the fact that he’s gone?”

“He isn’t.”

“We all know what happened—there were witnesses to the execution. What will it take for you to learn to just give up?”

Claude scoffed. “Right. The only ‘witness’ to confirm his death was Cornelia, and I don’t know if you’ve ever met her but she’s one sneaky bitch. It’s obvious she wanted to control Faerghus for the sake of the Empire. Getting His Highness out of the picture was the only way to accomplish that.”

Hilda groaned. “Fine. Even if that was true, what are the odds that she lied about his death? Surely she’d want him dead if he was the only thing standing in her way. You’d have wasted all this time for nothing.”

“The way I see it: I’m only wasting my time trying to fend off an army I clearly can’t get an advantage over instead of searching for allies. There’s still resistance in the Kingdom, and if Dimitri happens to be alive—and willing to fight with us—there’s a second army right there,” he explained. “Hilda, this isn’t just about me. This is about Fodlan. I want this war to end just as much as you do, but there’s nothing I can do with the Empire right there on our doorstep. If I can get the Kingdom’s support, we can outnumber Edelgard and her troops. Just have faith in me.”

To this, Hilda shook her head. “Sometimes I think I have a little too much faith in you to be quite honest...” The woman then let out a sigh. “Alright, fine, but don’t come cryin’ to me when you get mauled by a bear in those woods!”

Claude let out a laugh. “I think I’ll do just fine,” he said.

Lorenz, too, would occasionally give him lectures on “abandoning” his duties, what with Count Gloucester siding with the Empire and—in turn—Lorenz escaping to Derdriu in an effort to show loyalty to the Alliance. Claude was also happy to see Lorenz grow into his adult self. Especially since he started growing his hair out more. The duke wasn’t sure how much longer he could last staring at that hideous bowl cut of his.

However, neither Hilda nor Lorenz made Claude feel any discouragement. There was the slim chance the Agarthans learned from last time and immediately killed the prince before he managed to escape, but Claude was willing to bet on that chance if it meant finding him alive.

With all his leads taking him nowhere, Claude decided to make a one last-stitch effort and explore the one place in all of Fodlan he never dared to look: Garreg Mach Monastery.

The place had been completely abandoned after the Empire’s siege. The Knights of Seiros left with Seteth and Flayn to search for Rhea, and everyone else returned to their respective countries for refuge. The only person Claude could possibly think of who would be waiting for him there was Byleth, and he had already fully intended to be there before then.

But considering it had already been almost a full five years since his disappearance, Claude prepared himself to make the trip to the monastery in search of Byleth and, if the gods allowed it, Dimitri as well.

* * *

It took a few weeks by wyvern to arrive at the village at the base of the monastery. Claude decided to make a quick stop there to gather some supplies, having almost completely run out of food on the way there. Imperial soldiers were stationed and patrolling the surrounding forests of nearly every major territory from Gloucester all the way to Rowe. It seemed Her Majesty was not taking any chances when it came to keeping order and control in the land she had already obtained from this war.

When he arrived at the village, Claude dismounted his wyvern—an albino beauty he helped raise when he was younger and named Gila—and led her through the village until they reached an inn. The duke, pulling his hood a little further down to hide himself so as to not be caught, approached one of the men standing in front of the stables.

“Why, hello, gentlemen. You wouldn’t happen to be able to have room for my beautiful baby here, would you?” he asked.

One of the men, a younger looking fellow, nodded. “Uh, yeah, but it’ll cost a lil’ extra since we can’t put ‘er in with the horses.”

“I promise she’s a good-tempered gal. Super friendly too.”

“Not about ‘er,” said the other man, a gruffly gent with a gray, scratchy beard. “Horses get all jittery ‘round wyverns. Don’t need ‘em causin’ a ruckus at the sight of your girl here.”

“Ah, in that case, how much?”

“‘Bout a hundred gold if yer keepin’ ‘er here for three days. Any longer than that and we’ll charge an extra fifteen for every night she’s in there.”

“Eh, I don’t plan on staying very long. Just grabbing some supplies and heading up to the monastery,” he said. Claude reached into his pockets, digging out some gold coins to hand over to the gentlemen.

The older man took it graciously, pocketing it immediately before giving the duke a curious glare. “What business you got up there? Place’s been abandoned for five years now. Nothin’ but rats and thiefs, and rumor has it some beast has taken the place hostage.”

Claude’s ears perked at this. “A beast you say?”

“That’s ‘bout right!” the younger exclaimed. “Old Man Jimmery says the darn thing’s taller than any other beast in all of Fodlan, save them ones from the Empire. It’s covered in dirt and blood, and some say all the Imperial soldiers who go in to investigate never make it back. Why, I bet it called the whole lot of ‘em!”

“Garis!” the older man shouted. “Don’t go scarin’ the poor man, now! He don’t wanna hear no stories ‘bout no monsters.”

“Actually, that’s kind of why I’m here,” Claude said. “I’ve been following its movements from up north in old Kingdom territory down to right here at Garreg Mach.”

The two men looked at him in surprise, their eyes blown wide and jaws slacked in an o-mouth. Then, the older man let out a laugh.

“Well, if you’re gonna be huntin’ that thing, best get what you can from here. And let me know how it goes, assumin’ you come back alive and all.”

Claude let out a small laugh. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I think I’ll be alright.”

The duke then handed Gila over to the two gentlemen, giving her a small peck on the bridge of her nose as a promise to come back for her, and left as soon as she was put into the stables. With that taken care of, all Claude needed to do left was gather supplies.

With the gold he still had left, Claude collected some arrows for his bow as well as fruits, meat, and a little bit of fish. If the rumors were true, and the “beast” sitting in Garreg Mach happened to be the same one told to have wandered the wilderness for the past five years, then Claude thought the least he could do was bring His Highness some food. No doubt the man has been starving for some time if all that was there was vermin and bandits. Plus, the niceties might play out in his favor were the man to suddenly turn aggressive towards him.

Claude was fully prepared to continue the rest of his journey. He marched past the village and up the mountain towards Garreg Mach. As he traveled through the small patch of forest, he wondered what waited for him inside the monastery.

Guess there was only one way to find out.


	32. To Find You Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude finds a familiar face at the monastery.

Upon walking through the gates, Claude could already see the terrible state in which the monastery was left.

The marketplace was in shambles, piles of rubble were scattered across the yard, and as he walked deeper and deeper into the monastery all he could find was more debris and ruins. The once glimmering carpet of the entrance hall was now covered in dirt and left tattered on the ground. The bright chandeliers that used to hang from the tall ceilings were knocked off and shattered into millions of glass pieces across the dusty, tiled floors. Claude had remembered walking through this hall before, witnessing the destruction Edelgard left with a somber look on his face, but this time all he could feel was hate. Not just for Edelgard, but for himself.

_ Dimitri was right. We should’ve killed her when we had the chance. _

Claude continued to search through the first floor of the monastery, traveling from room to room in search of any sign of life, even if it was just a bandit. However, all he could find was a trail of dead soldiers leading up the staircase towards the very top of Garreg Mach. All of them were beaten and battered, some likely having died slowly from a neglected wound if the blood surrounding them was any indication. Of course, Claude followed the trail, climbing the staircase up to the second floor and then eventually the third. The closer he got to the top, the fresher the bodies looked.

Halfway up towards the third floor did he even hear a man groan in pain. He wasn’t sure how much longer the man had left to live given the large wound across his chest. Blood was still pouring out from it at a rather terrifying rate, but the soldier had begged him to help. All he could do was stop and console the man in his final moments before moving forward again, silently promising to end this war soon.

Once he reached the very top, the bodies stopped appearing along the stairs. All that was left were blood stains scattered across the stone. Above him was a massive gap in the ceiling and a balcony to his left as he entered, revealing a rising sun crawling slowly over the horizon. Claude then turned to his right to further explore the room only to freeze at what he saw.

A man was huddled in the dark corner just on the other side of the room with his body covered in an alarming amount of blood, though the duke doubted any of it was his own. The man looked up at him with his only good eye, its blue color a familiar and dull shade, and scowled.

Claude had seen this creature before, both in his life and in his nightmares, but to see himself cross paths with him again was a heartbreak so imaginable.

He approached the other slowly, careful in his movements as he pulled the hood of his cloak back to reveal his face. When he was close enough, he reached out his hand for the other to take with a hopeful expression.

Dimitri only stared in silence before looking away and, “I should have known...that one day...you would be haunting me as well...”

Claude brushed his words off. “Are you injured?” he asked. “I’ve got some medical supplies with me. Just point to where it hurts, and I’ll handle the rest.” This made the prince scoff.

“Do not try to fool me. To think you allowed the Alliance to be conquered... I thought you would be smarter than that.”

“Conquered? Didn’t think you had  _ that _ little faith in me, your princeliness.” Claude let out a small laugh. “The Alliance is fine, just barely hanging in there, but the Empire hasn’t taken us out just yet.”

Dimitri looked back at him, his eye narrowing. The prince suddenly stood to his feet and, in this moment, Claude was able to fully realize just how much the man had grown. He absolutely  _ towered _ over Claude. 

“Enough lies. Why else would you be here?” he asked, a growl emitting from deep in his throat as he spoke. “That woman isn’t dumb enough to leave you alive.”

To this, Claude couldn’t help but frown. He quietly muttered, “Dimitri...”

The duke reached up and out for the prince, cupping his cheek gently as he stepped closer. In turn, Dimitri’s eye grew wide and Claude could feel the man’s body go rigid under his touch. But despite this he still overlapped the other’s hand with his own and leaned into Claude’s warmth—though likely doing so out of instinct rather than choice.

“You... You’re alive...?” he croaked.

“Of course I am,” Claude replied. “I’d rather send myself back in time again before allowing either of us to die in this war. We made a promise together, to be there for each other, didn’t we?”

“But I...”

Claude could understand the shock written over the prince’s face, and felt his heart grow warm as Dimitri further smothered himself into his touch, as if the man was the only thing keeping him grounded with the voices in his head.

But then, like a flip of a switch, Dimitri’s attitude changed. His grip on Claude suddenly tightened to the point of nearly breaking. The duke let out a quiet whimper as his hand almost snapped half from how hard Dimitri held it, and he stared up at Dimitri in fear.

The prince glared down at him and hissed, “I will not believe your lies. Tell me, you’re an Imperial spy, aren’t you? Have you been sent to kill me?”

“D-Dimitri... I-”

“Answer me!”

Claude, with what little strength he had against the other man, pulled himself out of Dimitri’s grasp. With a glowering look he said to him, “I’m not a spy, damn it! No one even knows I’m here, not even Hilda, let alone Edel- I mean...the Empire. I know these last few years have been rough, but believe me, I’m not here to hurt you.”

The prince said nothing in regards to this. He only let out a small grunt before going silent. Then, he walked towards Claude without a word, his eye still forever glaring at him. Claude expected him to lash out even further, considering how mad the man had been when he last saw him in such a state, but was pleasantly surprised when he, instead, simply walked past the duke. Claude turned his head to follow Dimitri’s movement, noticing him walking back down towards the main floor, and followed him.

They walked together in silence past the numerous bodies Dimitri left to rot along the staircase, the smell starting to get to Claude’s senses ever so slowly. Still, he would ignore it for now. The monastery was already a mess. This was just one more sector that needed to be cleaned when everyone else arrived. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

After some time, Claude couldn’t help but notice Dimitri’s demeanor. It was nothing like how he was at Gronder: fierce and ruthless, willing to kill any and everyone who stood in his way. But this Dimitri was...docile. Like a grumpy beast allowing a pup to follow it. Though he definitely seemed annoyed, Dimitri appeared to be more in favor of just ignoring Claude instead of hurting or attacking him. Not that he was complaining. Anything would be better than getting brutally stabbed and left to die in a dusty, abandoned church.

Thinking this, Claude felt himself smiling, and with an air of confidence said, “I’m really glad you’re safe, Dima.”

If one blinked their eye just then, they would miss the way the other flinched at the nickname. Dimitri scoffed in return to Claude’s statement and asked, “Am I?” before growing quiet once more.

The rest of the way down was silent after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a notification from my school, and I thought it was them telling me my bills were due so I had a freaking heart attack. Turns out they were just pushing back the due date to August since people can't afford to pay right now cause of COVID so thank god for that.
> 
> Also, I need some feedback from you guys: I just added the slowburn tag on this fic because of how long it's taking for it to finish and I just wanted to ask this. Do you guys think this story is super long? Like, TOO long? Or would you guys alright with waiting for updates and chapters? Please let me know what you all think! I'd greatly appreciate it!


	33. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude helps Dimitri rid the monastery of some bandits, and are surprised to find their former classmates as well as the professor join the fight against Edelgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took me so long to write.
> 
> I recently got another job that requires me to get up pretty early, and by the time I get home I'm just so physically exhausted despite it being before seven in the afternoon, so I ended up totally forgetting about this fic for awhile. I'm also trying to create content for my LGBT+ Education blog again, and I've been recently addicted to Vivziepop's new music video for my favorite gay spider Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel (if you know it, you know it) so I've just been watching that for hours on end listening to this majestic bastard's voice over and over.
> 
> So yeah, but I'm back and ready to start uploading again! I'd say more but this intro note is already long as hell, so just look out for an announcement I've got for ya'll at the end of this update. Enjoy!~
> 
> PS: thank you for everyone who answered my question from the last chapter. I really appreciate the feedback ya'll give!

“So... What have you been up to these past five years?”

Claude isn’t sure how to start the conversation. Even less so with him and the prince just standing awkwardly in the busted up cathedral in utter silence for what might have been an hour. The duke could hear Dimitri muttering quietly to himself, or to his ghosts, but said nothing of it until the other man went dead silent.

Without even turning to him Dimitri replied, “I have been dead. More or less.” To this, he quirked a brow.

“And what makes you say that?”

Dimitri scoffed. “What do you hope to gain, asking me that?” he growled. “There are more important matters at hand.”

“Such as?”

“Do you not smell them? Filthy rats. Everywhere. And traces of those who were here long ago. And thieves, crawling from the woodwork, attracted by the promise of treasure.”

Claude couldn’t tell if he was being serious at the moment, or if the prince had totally lost his mind. Nor could he tell if he was talking about actual rodents or the thieves he had just mentioned. Either way, Claude knew this would not end well, if the pile of bodies His Highness had left around the monastery was any indication of the man’s fragile mental state. He let out a sigh at the prospect of a fight with some petty bandits. Still, it’d do them both some good to get some of the pent up energy out. And by them, he entirely meant Dimitri.

“I guess our plan is to chase them out, huh?”

“No,” the other hissed. “I will kill them all.”

“...Okay... But—and hear me out on this—we could just _not_ kill them. I’m almost positive a good few beatings will drive the message across and have them on their merry way.” After all, what business did they have putting a few thieves out of their misery? The two had much bigger fish to fry. That fish being Edelgard and her army.

Unfortunately that didn’t seem to be enough for the prince. He finally turned to face the other man and let out a small grunt of disapproval.

“No. They all must die,” he said. “Someone must put a stop to this cycle of the strong trampling the weak. Or do you condone their actions, Claude? Do you believe that the pillaging and slaughtering those rats live for is justified?”

Claude bit his lip. “Well, I-”

“It is reprehensible, and they must be put down! I intend to give them a taste of the pain they have inflicted on others. Even if it means becoming a rat myself. I swore to do at least that much... I will not let them down...”

Without another word, Dimitri turned around on his heel and marched straight for the bandits—wherever the hell they were—in total disregard of Claude’s presence. The duke watched him leave, quietly muttering over whether or not he should follow.

In his past life, he knew there were bandits running amuck in the abandoned monastery. However, he felt no need to really take them out on his own. Not until the professor had arrived, and he was curious on whether their skill with a sword had gotten duller or not over the years. But with Dimitri, there was no question that these thieves would perish so long as it was him behind the thrust of a lance.

Still, it looked like it would be some time before the others, as well as Byleth, would show up anytime soon in fear something had happened to their beloved king and duke. That is, assuming anyone from the Kingdom was bold enough to follow the rumors right here to Garreg Mach as well given their current position up north.

In the end, Claude had chased after the prince to help clean up the mess that was left behind after these five, long years.

* * *

Everything went about as well as Claude could have expected.

The bandits were no match against the duke’s wit and the prince’s brute strength. However, they far outnumbered the duo by the dozens. At least, they did at first.

The closer they got towards the leader of the pack, the more unexpected allies they saw amongst the spursed crowd on the battlefield. The first few to show up were, of course, Claude’s people. And who else was the man expecting to show up but Hilda and Lorenz, accompanied by Ignatz and Leonie?

Next, to his surprise, were members of the Kingdom. Ashe, Annette, and Mercedes were easy to recognize, but the older man that was rushing into the fight with them was someone Claude had never seen before off the battlefield. It was entirely possible that he was Annette’s father, given the similarities between their appearances, but it didn’t matter in the moment. He would later when the Kingdom and Alliance reconvened at the entrance hall of the monastery that the man was an ex general from the Kingdom army named Gilbert. After them came the remainder of the Deer and Lions: Raphael, Marianne, Lysithea, Dorothea, Linhardt, Caspar, Petra, Bernadetta, Cyril, Sylvain, Ingrid, and Felix.

Together, with their combined numbers and skill, they all managed to corner and defeat each and every bandit in the area. With that said and done, everyone met back up at the entrance hall in bursts of excited chatter.

“Claude!”

Well, maybe not everyone.

The man himself let out a nervous chuckle as he prepared himself to meet with the harsh scolding he was about to receive from his right hand.

“Hey, Hilda! See? Didn’t I tell you His Highness would be alive and well?”

The woman shook her head. “You very much could have been killed! That was so reckless of you. And that’s coming from me!”

“I think what Hilda is trying to say,” Lorenz interjected, “is that you shouldn’t have just up and left Derdriu like that! It was a very irresponsible thing to do considering we have the Empire right on our doorstep, just waiting for the chance to strike!”

“I know, I know, but hey. Look on the bright side. Now we can convince the Kingdom to join forces with us to take Her Majesty down, eh?”

Hilda groaned. “You’re such a nuisance sometimes.”

“You’re just mad my plan worked.”

“On a total whim, but sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Claude.”

“Hey!”

“I’d hate to interrupt-” The duke’s attention turned to the man on the battlefield. He watched the older man bow to him with a rather stern look on his face. “-but if I may, Sir Riegan, my name is Gilbert. I was a general under His Majesty before the Tragedy nine years ago. I left the army not long after that, but felt it was my duty to guide his son as an advisor. I’ve spent the last five years searching for him, and now that we have finally found His Highness we plan on taking him back to the Kingdom so he may claim his birthright and lead an attack against Cornelia to reclaim the Kingdom.”

Ah. That’s right. The Kingdom was still under Cornelia’s control, though only for the most part. He supposed it would make sense for them to want their king back now that he was discovered to actually be alive. Still, Claude would not let this opportunity go to waste.

“While that’s a rather admirable goal, Sir Gilbert, I don’t think His Highness is really up to the task. He’s much more concerned with invading Enbarr as of late, and I’m afraid I have to agree.”

Gilbert gave Claude a scowl, though it was barely noticeable if one only saw it at a glance. But Claude had had enough experience reading people and their expressions to tell the other man didn’t like his plan too much.

“I’m afraid that would be near impossible. Our army has very little men, as well as food, and I’m afraid we just do not have the ability to fight this war on two separate fronts,” he explained. “We do not know how much of our soldiers we can offer to siege Enbarr without putting what is left of the Kingdom in danger.”

Claude quickly brushed him off. “Well, surely we won’t need that much man power once Teach arrives.”

“But Claude, how can we be so sure if the professor will come?” Hilda asked. “They’ve been gone for five years. No one’s seen a trace of him, or Rhea, since Edelgard attacked the monastery all those years ago.”

“It matters not...”

Just then, all heads turned to face the prince. Dimitri, with his sunken eyes and cold stare, let out a small growl with every word that slipped past his lips.

“I will stick that woman’s head on a spike and place it before the gates of Enbarr for all to bear witness,” he hissed. “With or without the professor. The Empire must pay.”

Gilbert nodded. “I agree. We must take quick action if we are to stop the Empire from obtaining what is left of the Kingdom.”

Claude felt himself trapped between a rock and a hard place. He knew they needed Byleth on their side to win this war, at least from his experience anyway, but he also knew everyone would start asking questions on why he was so persistent about it. He had no other choice but to give in and, hopefully, just try to stall as much time as possible until the professor could arrive. But before he even had the chance to get a word in, the sound of tapping footsteps echoed in the hall followed by collective gasps.

The duke turned around and smiled at the sight of those familiar, sea green eyes. Talk about timing.

“Hey, Teach,” he greeted. “Glad you could join us.”

Byleth smiled at his former student, likely pleased that everyone was still alright after he had gone missing.

“I hope I’m not too late,” he answered.

“Not at all,” Claude said, shaking his head. “If anything, you’re right on time. We were just discussing strategies for taking on the Empire. The Kingdom is a little short on soldiers, though, so I doubt we’d be able to lay an assault on the capital.”

The professor blinked, his expression turning blank for a moment. “Well, if it’s soldiers you need, I suppose we could help.”

“Um... We?”

Byleth gave Claude a nod. Then, turning slightly, jerked it over back towards the entrance of the hall. Claude followed the movement to find Seteth, Flynn, and some of the Knights standing at the door. His jaw went slack in a brief moment of surprise before a smile, much brighter than the easy-going one he wore earlier, stretched across his face.

Everyone else seemed to have a similar feeling, for the three groups suddenly clashed together into one large crowd all excitedly hugging and shouting with one another. The Deer, of course, were the first ones to start the ruckus before the Knights and Lions joined shortly after. Questions were thrown around, people were sobbing as they held their long lost friends close once more, and overall the entrance hall was full of joyful noise as everyone was reunited once again.

When everything slowly began to calm down, the heads of the Knights took this chance to explain how they ended up here.

“We were just coming back to the monastery to see if we could find anything on Rhea’s whereabouts when we came across Byleth passed out in a river!” Catherine shouted with a grin. “When he woke up, we asked if Rhea was with ‘im. Turns out he had no clue where she was either, but insisted we’d find help back here, so we came runnin’ over!”

Beside her was Shamir, who nodded in agreement as she added, “Glad to see you’re all safe. Or, at least, safe as you can be considering the bodies of bandits we found along the way.”

“I’m sure you guys managed to handle it well, though,” Alois jumped in. “After all, just look at how grown you all are! A few bandits are no trouble at all to any of you, huh?”

Off to the side was Seteth, who hummed with a warm, fatherly smile gracing his lips. “Indeed. It’s relieving to hear that, even amongst all this chaos, the future leaders of Fodlan are able to perfectly handle themselves regardless of the circumstances.”

“Oh, isn’t this amazing? We’re all together again! What a sweet reunion!” Flayn chirped. “Oh! I have an idea. How about we all throw one big celebration tonight!”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Cyril exclaimed.

“Well, I am pretty hungry. Starving actually,” Jeralt laughed. “Sounds like it’ll be fun.”

“In that case, we’ll need plenty of food!” Mercedes turned over to Ashe and Annette. “We should get started right away! Don’t you think?”

“Alright! A party!” the ginger-haired girl giggled.

“Yes! I have a few new recipes I’ve been dying to try out!”

“Hey, don’t leave me out of this gig!” Leonie butted in. “Captain Jeralt taught me all I know about cooking up a good meal!”

“Oh, that’d be just wonderful, Leonie!”

Claude couldn’t help but let out a laugh at all the buzz. “Then I guess it’s settled,” he said. “We’ll definitely need to talk more about our plan to liberate Fodlan. But for now: let’s feast!”

Everyone in the room let out a unified roar of delight at the duke’s declaration. These past five years had been hard on everyone, and they were all sure that a party would be just the thing they needed to lift their spirits. As the crowd slowly dispersed, with some heading towards the dining hall, others remaining at the entrance, and some going off to a different part of the monastery, Claude was overjoyed to see Garreg Mach come back to life in just one afternoon. There was still hope for everyone.

Well, except maybe one person.

The duke would never pretend he didn’t notice Dimitri, who stood silent and off to the side through the whole uproar, making his way back towards the cathedral. This time, however, Claude didn’t dare to follow him. Begrudgingly, he left the prince to his own devices. For now, at least.

He wouldn’t just jump in without a plan. Not a second time. He had already messed up once in protecting Dimitri from his ghosts. He would not make that same mistake again. Claude would see to it this Dimitri was brought back to his senses before he met the same fate as the first, and this time he’d do it the right way.

He just needed to figure out how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this update! It took some time to figure out just where I left off, lol.
> 
> Anyway, as for that special announcement: I've been working on creating fanart for FE3H for the one year anniversary coming up, but I also want to let you guys know that - if you're interested - I'll be uploading a self-insert sort of fic as a "thank you" to the fandom and Fire Emblem series (of course specifically for Three Houses but for other games I've played) to let you guys know just how much this community has meant to me since being introduced to it back when Awakening came out. So, if you're interested in reading it and knowing a bit more about me, I'll be uploading it this weekend early on the 26th EST.
> 
> At least that's the plan, assuming I can get my hands on a Monster energy drink to consume once I get back from my cousin's place for his birthday. 
> 
> If you want to see that fanart you can follow me or check it out on my [Instragram art account](https://instragram.com/author.kun_666?igshid=yp6kf3sgn5l0) (or [my shitpost account](https://instragram.com/help_this_trashcan_plz?igshid=1l0pakcupsoli)) and you can follow me on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/gamer_juice_) to also check for updates!
> 
> If not, that's also cool. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed the reading and I will see ya'll next time!


	34. The Alliance Leader's Ambitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a moment to relax, Claude decides to do some individual catching up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slams fists on table*  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE BISEXUAL ICON MR. KHALID VON RIEGAN!!!  
> Please enjoy this small semi-filler update as a form of celebration for our beautiful baby boy's special day.

Everyone took part in restoring Garreg Mach to its former glory. At least, as much as they could in the span of a few days. The mess—consisting of rubble, overgrown foliage, a few wild animals that have made nests all throughout the monastery, and, to the horror of some, the pile of bodies His Highness created—was bigger than Claude had anticipated. Had the monastery really been left in such shambles? He couldn’t really remember. Either way, everyone had a part to play in picking up some of what the Empire’s siege left.

But in a few days’ time, Garreg Mach began to look at least a little more habitable much to everyone’s pleasure.

“Thank you so much for your help with the restoration,” Alois said to Claude and Hilda, who were overseeing the Alliance’s part in fixing things up.

“Oh please, it was nothing! We were just doing our part as former students!” the woman giggled.

“I was told you guys even routed out the bandits,” Catherine grinned. “That job should have fallen to us. I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

“Eh, I doubt it was _that_ difficult for them,” Jeralt chimed in. “These kids are better than any knight or mercenary I’ve ever worked with. A few bandits were probably nothing to ‘em.”

Claude let out a laugh at that. “I appreciate the praise, Captain, but seriously. Don’t think twice about it. We’re all allies in the resistance against the Empire, right?”

“Well, the church is at war with the Empire, but let’s be realistic here. Wouldn’t it be better for the Alliance to eventually submit?”

“The way I see it, the emperor wants to take over all of Fodlan and destroy the existing order of the world.” It was Byleth who spoke, turning his blank stare towards the older woman. “I doubt she would just leave the Alliance be. They are just as involved as the Kingdom and the Church in this war.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Teach! Besides, we were kinda hoping you’d let us use the monastery as a sort of base of operations, considering we’ve got the Kingdom here as well. It’s the perfect place for all three armies to meet together.”

Catherine’s brows knitted together, her gaze falling to the ground in deep thought. “Well, when you put it like that...”

“Whether or not the Church joins the Alliance or the Kingdom is not up to us.”

All eyes turned over to see Seteth approaching the small group with Flayn standing right beside him. Rhea’s right hand shifted his gaze towards the professor.

“The archbishop said if anything should happen to her, that we should entrust the affairs of the Church to you,” he told him. “So, Professor, where do you stand?”

Byleth said in turn to Seteth, “I will fight alongside the Alliance. I believe in Claude, and the rest of my Deer, and will stand beside them _and_ the Kingdom in Fodlan’s time of need.”

Seteth gave a nod. “Very well. If you intend to fight alongside the Alliance, then I will follow you as well. From now on the Alliance shall have the full support of the Knights of Seiros, and the permission to use Garreg Mach as its military base to end this war.”

Claude couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He looked over to Byleth, who glanced back in return with a grin to match the duke’s, in silent thanks.

“Well, now that that’s settled, come on kid. I’m in the mood for a drink.”

“Coming, Father.”

Byleth and Jeralt then left the merry band of misfits for the moment, both heading towards the dining hall to grab some ale. Claude saw this as his cue to leave and, maybe, check up on some of the others.

He noticed some of his former enemies among their ranks when everyone returned to the monastery in that short moment of celebration, and he was curious to know how they’ve been holding up. No doubt many of them from the Empire were now labeled traitors and likely lost whatever influence they had over there.

The first person he bumped into just so happened to be Caspar. The short, excitable boy had grown only slightly taller, but certainly had more muscle on him. Of course he’d never be as beefy as Ralphael—Claude doubted anyone could—but the man’s power was undeniable.

“Yo, Claude!” the blue-haired man shouted.

“Hey, Caspar! Long time no see. How’s it going?”

Caspar gave a light shrug. “Couldn’t really go back to the Empire after my dad kicked me out of our territory for siding with the Alliance, so I figured I might just come back over here on my way to Derdriu for old time’s sake. I gotta say, my timing couldn’t be better! Have you seen Linhardt by any chance?”

“Uh, I think I saw him up in the library. If he’s not there then he’s likely in his room.” Claude didn’t get to know Linhardt too well in his past life. Especially not before the war started. He was too busy trying to uncover as many secrets about the Church and Fodlan as possible, leaving almost no time to make any new friends outside of the Golden Deer. All he knew was that the man loved to sleep and read.

Such suggestions seemed to be accurate, given Caspar’s sigh. “Yeah, sounds about right. Well, I’ll definitely look around there for him. Thanks, Claude!”

Without another word, Caspar ran off to go find his friend. Claude shook his head fondly as he continued to make his way through the monastery, bumping into a cheerful Petra in the courtyard of the academy.

“Ah, Claude! Is great to be seeing you again!” she chirped.

“It’s nice to see you too, Petra,” he replied. “I’m honestly surprised you agreed to side with us against the Empire. Considering your homeland and all.”

Petra nodded. “While I am worried for my people, I cannot agree with what Edelgard is doing. As future queen of Brigid it is my duty to be standing up for what is right.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“Yes,” she said. “Edelgard is controlling the Empire. She is putting the pressure on the Kingdom and Alliance. Empire and religion are at open war. It will be...difficult for us at first. But corrupt nobles are many. That means the common people will rebel and be joining our side. With the professor the battle tides will...ah, will turn! I have certainty!”

Claude let out a small chuckle. Though Petra didn’t seem to have as strong of a grasp on Fodlan’s language as he would have thought, he was still glad to see her enthusiasm. He couldn’t possibly imagine the stress she must have felt when deciding to side against the Empire.

“That’s the plan, Petra. And even if that’s not the case: with the Kingdom and Church on the side of the Alliance, I have no doubt we’d be able to take Her Majesty down without breaking a sweat!”

“In that case, may we be successful! Now, I must be searching for Dorothea now. She said something about wanting to be meeting up for lunch. I am excited to see what we will be eating today!”

“You got it,” he replied. “Good luck!”

Petra smiled at Claude before taking her leave, the two of them waving to one another before the warrior disappeared into the distance from the courtyard into the dining hall. Feeling better that his allies held no regrets with them, Claude decided there was one last person he wanted to speak to.

The duke made his way around the monastery towards the entrance to Abyss where, not at all to his surprise, Yuri was already standing there in the cool shade in front of the dorms. The mysterious man he had met back in his days at the academy was replaced with a suave fellow, bearing looks that rivaled depictions of the most beautiful gods to exist.

He gives a small wave as a greeting to the other man. “Hey, Yuri,” he said. “It’s been awhile, huh? Thought you’d have left the monastery by now.”

Yuri scoffed playfully. “Yeah, right. Garreg Mach may have been left to rot, but I wouldn’t dare let Abyss share the same fate. We just had to learn to protect ourselves from bandits a lil’ better is all.”

“Glad to hear it. Speaking of Abyss, has the Death Knight escaped?” he asked.

“Oh. You mean Jeritza? Nah.”

Claude’s eyes grew wide. “Uh... What?”

The other’s reaction almost made Yuri laugh, but thinking it would be a little too disrespectful towards the duke to mock his sense of shock the Abyssian went for a teasing smirk instead.

“Big guy decided picking sides was too much of a hassle, I guess. Said he didn’t really care for the Empire or following orders. Just so long as he got to have a good friend with our dear professor.”

That...was actually pretty in character for him. Given how obsessed Jeritza was with Byleth and their one-sided rivalry in his first life, Claude wouldn’t pass the man to give up on trying to return to Imperial territory. Especially if he knew staying here meant a chance at finding and getting to fight Byleth again.

“I guess that makes some sense. Don’t suppose we should make sure those two stay as far away as possible from each other, do ya?” the duke snickered.

Yuri let out a laugh. “Doubt there’s really anything we can do to stop ‘em. But hey, look on the bright side: he might be willing to fight for your cause if ya promise him at least one duel with the guy.”

“All depends on how Byleth feels, but I’ll pass the message on.”

“You got it. Oh, and Claude...”

“Hm?”

“Tell the professor I look forward to this second chance to bond now that he’s back for me, will ya?”

Yuri gave the duke a suggestive wink, accompanied by a deep chuckle. Claude felt a little grossed out at the...remark the other made towards his ex—but also not really his ex—but decided to pay it no mind for now. He’d just lock that memory away deep, _deep_ , into the back of his mind where it will stay until the day he is finally buried. He was, of course, supportive of the two, but it still brought a sense of unfamiliarity to him. After all, he was an adult again. Not too long before he was last in this body was he married to the man.

Still, it was best not to dwell on it too hard. This Byleth was still not the same Byleth from the other timeline. In the end, it didn’t matter what happened. He’d likely never develop the same relationship with the professor as he did before.

Speaking of which...

“Anyway, I’m gonna head on over to the docks. Gotta talk to Gilbert about some important shit, ya know?”

“Well, don’t let me stop you. See you around.”

“Same to you.”

With that said and done, Claude walked down the path leading from the dorms to the docks. Just a little ways off was the professor getting some fishing done—a favorite pastime of his—while Gilbert stood closer to the stairs traveling up to the dining hall just behind them. The duke approached the knight cautiously and with a friendly grin on his face.

“Hey, Gilbert, was it? I need to talk to you about something.”

The older man glanced down at the duke curiously. “Was there something you needed?” he asked.

“I know this is a pretty hot topic for everyone from the Kingdom, but I can’t help feelin’ a lil’ worried about His Highness. It’s been days since we all came back to the monastery and he’s just...standing there in the cathedral, talkin’ to himself.” Claude let out a sigh as he paused, thinking back to how many times this week alone he’s walked in on the prince talking to himself. “I’d appreciate it if you could tell me what’s happened to him since five years ago. I genuinely wanna help the poor guy.”

A solemn look spread across Gilbert’s features. He looked away from Claude as he shook his head slowly.

“After that battle, a certain...incident took place in Fhirdiad. Rufus, who was serving as the king regent, was murdered. I returned to my position in the Kingdom to serve what was left of the royal family. However, Cornelia, a mage from the Empire who cured the plague that nearly wiped out our people, claimed it was His Highness who had committed the deed and sentenced him to death. Her words erased all my doubt that she had somehow planned this coupe from the start.”

“How did he escape?”

“I have not a clue. At first, the whole Kingdom believed he was dead. But since his execution and corpse were never presented to the public, there were some who trusted that he was still alive. I only began to believe such rumors three years ago.”

Claude let out a scoff. “I’m guessin’ we heard the same rumors and came runnin’, huh?”

“Maybe so. Either way I doubt there is much that can be done to persuade him. I fear his deep hatred, and the weight of his solitude, have consumed him for far too long. The best we can hope for is convince him to make wise decisions that would benefit the greater good. All that matters now is that His Highness is alive. Anything after that comes second.”

_Yeesh. Pessimistic much?_

“Right... Well, I’ll leave you to it then, I guess.”

“Yes. In fact, I believe I should check on His Highness. Good day, Sir von Riegan.”

Gilbert gave Claude a short bow, out of only respect and nothing more no doubt, before leaving the duke to his own devices. If Claude wasn’t already lacking the confidence to find a solution to the prince’s deteriorating mental state, he most certainly was now. The brunette let out a heavy sigh as he ran his hands through his hair. The stress of this whole situation felt like it was finally starting to get to him.

Thankfully, someone came to his rescue.

“Hey, Claude,” Byleth called to him, seeming to have finished his hobby for the day. “What was with you and Gilbert? Did he say something?”

Claude waved the professor off. “Nah, nah, it’s not like that. We just... We were just talkin’ about His Highness is all.”

Byleth gave a knowing glance as he let out a soft hum.

“I’m assuming you’re still hoping to help him get better,” he said.

“Yeah, basically. I’ve sorta decided to form a new plan seeing as my old one changed nothing, but I still need more information if I’m gonna do it the right way, ya know?”

“Understandable. However, have you thought of speaking to Dimitri instead of those around him? No source is better than the one you’re hoping to impact.”

Claude groaned. “You think I haven’t tried? Talking to the guy is like talking to a brick wall. He either totally ignores me or is growling at me to leave ‘im alone. No one else can even get close to him without nearly losing their head.”

“I see. That is troublesome...”

Byleth fell silent for a moment, his finger resting on his chin as he looked up to the clear sky above them. After a short while he returned his gaze to the duke.

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to solve this. You always do. But if you’re really hoping to get somewhere, perhaps the other Lions would know something.”

“The Lions?”

Byleth nodded. “Yes. Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid were his friends from childhood. Surely they would know what’s caused such a change in him. Ah, but I’m afraid I can’t talk anymore. I have some people I need to check in with to help better the state of the monastery. Good luck, Claude. I believe in you.”

With that, the professor turned on his heel and walked away. Claude was left by the docks to watch him go, wondering just how he was going to approach the Faerghan trio on the mental health of their beloved friend.

He had to figure it out. Not just for everyone’s sake, but for Dimitri’s as well.


	35. Captain Randolph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monastery is under siege, and Claude catches a glimpse of just how much Dimitri has changed.

“What are you proposing, Claude?”

The archer smirked. “Look, I’m just suggesting we fight under a new banner to symbolize our unified stance against the Empire is all!”

“And what would that be?” the professor couldn’t help but ask. To his question, Claude’s grin only grew.

“Well, since you asked...”

The duke dug through his pockets and pulled out a scroll, unfolding it to reveal a sketch of a new banner featuring the Crest of Flames. The crest that Byleth held.

“If we fought under any of our individual banners, it would only further incite the lords who already support the Empire. With this, it will be a lot more difficult for them to guess just who it is they’re fighting,” he explained. “You’ll recognize it as the Crest of Flames, which resides in Teach, and just like this phantom Crest that has reappeared after over a thousand years we will perform our own miracle.”

“That...is actually kinda genius!” Hilda said.

“Yes. Very symbolic indeed,” Yuri chimed in. “I kinda like it.”

“Then we’re all in agreeance. Until we reach the dawn of a new in Fodlan, let us ban together as one under the Crest of Flames!”

The war room was then filled with cheers and shouts of both agreement and excitement. Knights and soldiers alike quickly began to gossip of the idea, and it filled Claude with pride. He glanced over to the professor who gave him a knowing grin in return. Claude had once mentioned their use of the Crest of Flames in his previous life, and Byleth had no doubt the mischievous man would pull a similar stunt.

Except this time it truly was symbolic. The whole of Fodlan was working together to achieve peace, just as Claude had openly hoped.

Unfortunately, this little moment did not last forever.

As everyone was celebrating this step towards forming a proper army, Knights of Seiros came rushing into the war room with Seteth in tow. All heads turned in surprise when they witnessed the look upon the man’s face. Seteth’s eyes were rushing around the room until they finally landed on that of Byleth’s and Claude’s.

The latter recognized that look. It was one he saw long ago, to a time he knew he was reliving, and his face fell at the very thought of what stood just outside their door. What Seteth said to them was no surprise to the duke.

“...The Imperial army is here.”

* * *

To Claude, Randolph could not have chosen a worse time to attempt an invasion. Lucky for him, he managed to rope all three armies into the fight. The Knights were taking the defensive with most of their troops centered in front of the monastery as a barrier for any soldier who snuck past their frontline forces. Only a small handful went out into the field per their sneak attack against the platoon. The Kingdom and Alliance armies, however, took up much of the field with the duke’s former classmates as the standing generals.

The fight was fierce, as many of the enemy’s units consisted of flyers. The only archers they had on deck were Ashe, Bernadetta, Shamir, and Leonie. As powerful as each one was, it was still not enough. Power could never defeat numbers. Dorothea, Annette, Linhardt, and Lysithea did their best to ward off as many soldiers as they could with their magic, with Mercedes and Marianne sticking as close as possible to them in case they ever needed help, but their own army was too close to defeat for Claude’s comfort.

Closer to the front was him, Byleth, and Dimitri—the professor opted for the prince to stay out of this fight, but Claude convinced him that his strength would benefit them in the end; besides, it wasn’t like anyone could stop His Highness once he heard Imperial forces were on their doorstep—all setting their focus on taking out Randolph.

With the prince in his current set of rage, the professor and duke devised a plan to lead Dimitri towards Randolph to finish the battle.

Left and right were Imperial soldiers cut down without a second thought. It seemed the prince had grown less and less remorseful with every life he took, considering how quickly he cut them down. However, Claude would see to it that they used such a drive to lead them to victory. Just until he could snap him out of it.

“It looks like the reinforcements have almost made it to their destination,” Byleth commented, recovering from a near surprise attack from a wyvern rider.

“Yeah,” Claude replied. “Let’s just try to get to Randolph. Once reinforcements do their thing, they’ll have no choice but to surrender.”

Byleth nodded in agreement, and the two sped ahead to catch up with Dimitri, who continued to charge ahead. It was as if the man had no regard for his life. He cared not whether he succeeded in stabbing straight through his next enemy, or was finally put out of his misery.

When the three finally made it to face off against the general, Claude felt something terrible stir inside him and he hesitated. But why? He had no consideration for this man before. So why was he feeling so strange?

Randolph glanced over at Dimitri from atop his wyvern, scowling. “A one-eyed demon,” he said. “So, it’s you. You’re the one going around killing Imperial troops!”

Dimitri scoffed. “What is it to you?” he growled.

“You bastard! Life is worthless to you, isn’t it!?” This made the prince bark out a deep, and almost cynical, laughter.

“You took the words from my mouth, general!”

The two immediately charged at one another. With every swing Dimitri unleashed, Randolph dodged again and again, but the prince’s fast and wide movements left the general no room to counterattack. The duke supposed even the most powerful man can’t outwit a trained general. Claude was sure Dimitri’s madness erased all memory of battle tactics from the prince’s mind. All he could focus on now was bloodshed to appease his inner demons. But when will they ever be satisfied? Until he is dead?

No. He wouldn’t let that happen. Not now, not ever.

The duke took his bow, knocking it, and allowed his arrow to fly across the field and bury itself into an unsuspecting Randolph’s shoulder. The general let out a cry, and, now that his guard was down, Dimitri was given the perfect opening to strike. He swung his lance across the wyvern’s chest, making the creature cry out as it collapsed onto the ground, and watched as the general fell from his saddle.

Randolph fell to the ground with a hard  _ thud _ . He, to his misfortune, landed on the very arm Claude struck just a few moments prior and let out a pained howl. He clutched his shoulder and stared up at his approaching enemies with a glare.

“You...bastards...ngh...”

“It’s over,” Byleth told him. “You may as well surrender.”

“Gah... N-Never...! For my house... For justice! I will not be defeated!”

Claude opened his mouth to retort, to tell the man it was no use, but the  _ fwoosh _ and hot air that filled the atmosphere around them caught his attention. He turned to look behind him and smirked.

The battlefield was now in flames. Whatever was left of the Imperial forces were either taken care of by their allies or were burned to a crisp. He turned back to Randolph and shook his head.

“Well, so much for that,” he said.

Meanwhile, the general looked off at the battlefield in horror. Now that Claude had a closer look at the guy, he couldn’t help but notice how  _ young _ he looked. He appeared almost his age if not younger. Had this been his first battle? No. Surely not. He was a general after all. How many lives did he take to have to earn that title? But had he truly not seen something as horrid as this war to make such a face? Just how innocent had he been before Claude last took his life right here? In a different world and different time?

Claude was so focused on his own thoughts that he could not hear Dimitri’s demand to capture the injured Randolph. No one made a move to follow the orders, but neither did His Highness. The duke looked at him and noticed the way he stared down at the fallen general.

He didn’t like that look one bit.

“...Dimitri?” he asked. “You doin’ alright, bud?”

The prince continued to ignore him, instead keeping his eye on the enemy before them. Claude followed his gaze to the groveling Randolph.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I... I have a family waiting for me... Please, I can’t die here...”

Without hesitation the other man retorted, “A beast of your depravity, prattling on about family? How amusing.”

“As though you could understand...such a thing as love...” The general let out a huff, blowing air through his nose like an angered bull, at the sight of the prince. “You’re a heartless monster!”

Claude could see Byleth jump in the corner of his vision, their eyes meeting for a brief and panicked moment before settling on Dimitri. The prince didn’t seem to be affected by the general’s accusation.

If anything, he looked entertained by it.

“You are a monster too, General. You have just yet to realize it. A monster who thinks he’s a man...despicable.” A smirk spread across Dimitri’s face as he lifted his chin to look down his nose at the other and crossed his arms over his chest. “As a general, you must have killed countless souls without a shred of mercy. Do you still remember the sound of them begging, just as you’re begging now? Or, now that your life is at its end, will you hold to the lie that your hands are not stained red with blood?”

“But this... This is war. I did what I had to for the Empire...for the people...for my family!”

“So, you are piling up corpses for the  _ people _ and for your  _ family _ . And I am doing the same for the salvation of the dead... After all is said and done, we are both murderers. Both stained...” Dimitri’s head tilted forward again as he kept that wicked smile on his face. “...Both  _ monsters _ .”

“You’re... You’re wrong!”

“Am I?” he chuckled. “I can smell the rotting flesh upon your hands even now, General.”

Claude could see the fear in the general’s eyes as he shook his head and denied the claim, and he couldn’t blame the poor man. The duke felt himself grow weary of the prince. He knew Dimitri had been out of his mind, but never to  _ this _ extent. Never this far. Just what was going through his head? He had to make this stop. This was too much.

But before he could even call the prince back from whatever dark sense of madness he found himself in, he heard Randolph cry out desperately, “Enough! That’s enough!”

The prince, of course, ignored his plea.

“I won’t kill you right away, my fellow monster. Unless you object to watching your friends die. One...by...one.”

“Dimitri, don’t,” Claude called in warning. “We could use him as a bargaining chip against the Empire.” But he, too, went ignored.

“If so, I will do you the service of removing your eyes first so that-”

What came next was a shock to both Claude and the delusional prince. Everything happened too fast, so much gone in an instant, as Randolph’s cries echoed across the field. One moment, the man was beneath them, begging for mercy at the first sign of being cornered, and in the next he had collapsed entirely on the ground in a pool of his own blood with a large, red gash decorating his torso.

“Fleche... Please, forgive me...”

With that, Randolph took his final breath.

Claude glanced up to see who had been the culprit, and was surprised to find fresh blood soaking the professor’s blade. Dimitri seemed to have followed his gaze, for the man stormed up to Byleth and snarled, “What is the meaning of this?”

Byleth narrowed his eyes in turn. “You are not the same Dimitri I once knew. I could no longer watch this man suffer, and so I took his life.”

To this, the prince scoffed. “The Dimitri you once knew is dead. All that remains is the repulsive, blood-stained monster you see before you.” Stepping closer, almost in challenge to the professor’s power, he added, “If you do not approve of what I have become, then kill me. If you insist that you cannot...then I will continue to use you  _ and _ your friends until the flesh falls from your bones.”

Then, without waiting for the professor’s answer, Dimitri stormed off towards the monastery. It was likely he was going to return to the cathedral to hide away in his solitude—though Claude was sure the man’s had enough of it to last several lifetimes. Byleth didn’t seem bothered by the prince’s attitude. Then again, the guy was always hard to read when his face was forever a blank slate. Only from time to time did he dare show emotion through it. But the duke was sure Byleth didn’t approve at all of the man His Highness had become.

The professor looked back to Claude. “Are you alright?”

“I... Yeah.” Was he really? “Just... Fuck, man...”

“...You know I had to do it.”

“I know,” Claude replied. “Still. I can’t help but think it’s just gonna come back to bite us in the ass later.”

“Matters not. At least, not right now. There’s more important things that need to be discussed.”

“Such as?”

Byleth gave him a  _ “are you fucking serious?” _ look. A rare expression, one entirely unwelcomed, and Claude could feel a lecture coming along.

“You need to act quickly, less His Highness becomes our downfall in this war,” he said to the duke. “We cannot risk him acting out any longer.”

Claude’s lips were pulled into a thin line as he deeply exhaled. “Yeah, that much is obvious, but trust me when I say I’m working on it. I just...haven’t had the time to talk to any of them yet and I-”

“Then I suggest you do it before our next expedition, which will no doubt be soon.” Byleth paused for a moment to let out a heavy sigh. He looked away from Claude and shook his head softly. “We should regroup with the others.”

“...Yeah. Let’s go.”

The two men nodded in agreement. Sheathing their weapons, Byleth and Claude made their way across the battlefield to regroup with the three armies to discuss their next move. They would need to act quickly now that the Empire was aware of their location...

* * *

Not too far from Garreg Mach’s walls is what remains of Randolph’s troops. There, a young girl dressed in red armor nearly feels her heart drop at the sight before her.

A lone soldier rides his stead across the field, bloody and battered, where smoke can be seen in the distance behind him. When he finally reaches her, his eyes grow dark. His expression alone is the only answer she needs.

The girl lets out a strong and loud wail, collapsing onto her knees and sobbing into her hands. Her brother had been murdered by those fiends resting in the ruins of the monastery. As her sorrow grows in time with her rage, she begins to wonder just who had dealt the final blow when a man’s face comes to mind.

Long hair as bright as the sun’s golden rays fall past a single, pale blue eye accompanied by a twisted, mocking smile. Within moments, her fury replaces her grief, and the girl begins to thirst for revenge.

She knows who to look for, and she knows  _ just _ how to get close to him.


	36. Reinforcements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to the size of the three armies, the Kingdom and the Alliance will need to pull some strings to guarantee enough supplies for everyone. Meanwhile, Claude finally comes up with a scheme that may help end the war more peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. The internet at my place crashed and wouldn't work for days (it still isn't, it's so damn slow,,,) after Isaias kicked our ass in New York. A bunch of trees fell and toppled powerlines and buildings, everyone's power was out for days and still is in certain places, and it's just a giant mess. And we only got the tail of the storm, so I can't possibly image those who were closer to the center. That shit was terrifying to watch.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy this update.

After the battle had finished, everyone from both the Kingdom and Alliance returned to the war room to discuss what had just taken place.

“The Empire will likely continue to nip at our heels if we don’t do something soon,” Gilbert said. “Even with our current forces, we’ll have our hands full just defending. Not to mention our low supplies. We’ll likely starve to death before they attempt another siege.”

“In that case, shouldn’t we just ask for help?” Leonie suggested. “I’m not too sure about the Kingdom, but the Alliance has plenty of lords who would be willing to lend a few troops and supplies.”

“Even if that were the case, they would all have to pass through Gloucester territory, and my father has been very cautious not to give the Empire a pretext to intervene. He is unlikely to allow even envoys to pass through,” Lorenz sighed.

“Well, I can think of one person who we can ask for reinforcements. Someone whose territory is really close, and who’s on good terms with Claude...”

The duke should have expected this, especially from Hilda of all people. As much as he didn’t want Judith getting involved, considering what awaited them in the Valley of Torment, he saw no other option. The Kingdom was still struggling, and they would need as many soldiers and supplies as possible if they were going to liberate it as Gilbert and the Lions were hoping to.

“You’re talking about Judith,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll reach out to her as soon as possible. Still, it may take some time for her to respond. Until then, everyone should prepare for the next battle.”

Silent murmurs of agreement followed throughout the room. Everyone knew of the Hero of Daphnel and her strength. No doubt her troops would be held to a similar standard with just as much grit and merit as the woman herself. With their help, it would be much easier to take on Edelgard’s army.

“That still leaves us wondering what we can do for the Kingdom.” Of course. Who else but Gilbert to leave no stone unturned? Luckily, Claude already had an answer for him.

“Once we’re more fully equipped and have toppled Enbarr, we’ll go after what remains of the Imperial army in the Kingdom,” he said. “Sound fair?”

The man, though clearly against Claude’s suggestion, fell silent after that.

“My father will be fine on his own,” Felix said, deciding to _finally_ speak up. “There are plenty of young people willing to take up arms against Cornelia in Fraldarius territory. If anything, he can spare a couple of them if we asked.”

“Great idea Felix!” Annette chirped.

“Yes. Even just a few more troops would help our cause. The sooner we defeat the Empire, the sooner we can focus on things back home,” Ashe said in agreement.

“And find Lady Rhea!” Mercedes added.

“But we still need Dimitri to return to the capital. His people need him.”

Sylvain nodded at Ingrid’s statement. “Besides, wasting our time on the Empire will probably end in disaster. Our blades will be dull by the time we face the Dukedom.”

“I say let Dimitri decide,” Leonie butted in. “He is the king after all.”

“Leonie,” Lysithea said to the woman, “haven’t you notice that he’s not exactly...stable at the moment?”

“Did you see the way he just tore through those soldiers? I don’t think we can trust him to make this kind of decision. I agree with Lysithea.”

“Still... Surely he hasn’t totally lost his mind, right? Maybe deep down he still cares enough for his home to save it.”

“I’m not too sure about that, Ignatz,” Raphael sighed. “The guy’s done nothing but sulk and talk to himself in the cathedral since we showed up.”

“As long as Lady Rhea is saved, I don’t care what happens.”

And just like that, the room was once again thrown into a fit of arguments and disagreement. Just when Claude thought he was finally able to bring everyone together as one, determined unit. The duke looked over to the professor for assistance, not entirely sure how to handle this situation. It was one thing getting his Deer to agree on something, but all three armies had totally different ideas on what was the best approach to finish this war. If even one group didn’t agree with the plan, then his tactics would completely fall apart. He had to find a way to get everyone to agree.

When Byleth caught the duke’s eyes, he let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s your call,” he said to him. As if that did much to ease his worries.

“Teach, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but there’s a lot at stake here if I don’t get everyone to agree on _something_.”

“This isn’t the first bind you’ve been in, Claude, and it certainly won’t be the last.” Byleth turned back to witness the chaos unfolding before them. “You must do what you believe is best. I cannot give all the answers.”

_...You’re right._

Even if it wasn’t the perfect solution, Claude was certain that his plan would appease all three armies and convince them to work together. At least until the war was over and the Empire, and Agarthans, were defeated.

Standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on the wooden table, Claude caught the attention of everyone in the room with a simple shout of, “Enough!”

Everyone immediately stopped, and all eyes were now on him. Claude took a moment to glance at each and every person in the room, studying their faces and reactions, before proceeding with his idea.

“We can all agree that Dimitri isn’t in the most stable condition to make this decision, king or not. No one can deny that. However, we’d be killing two birds with one stone if we went ahead and attacked Edelgard’s forces head on,” he explained. “We should be aiming to cut the tree from its roots, not its branches. Once the Empire’s forces are extinguished in Enbarr, reinforcements can’t be sent to recapture Faerghus were we to liberate it before capturing the Imperial capital. Standing here and arguing will solve _nothing_.”

No one spoke a word in the short moment that followed Claude’s speech. The duke saw this as a chance to take complete control. He turned to Felix and asked, “How soon can your father send a response to us were we to ask for assistance?”

Felix answered, “A few weeks, I supposed. A month at most.”

“Good. Send word as soon as possible. If we can get an answer from both Fraldarius and Daphnel territory at the same time, we can move forward without wasting any more time than we already have. You’ll let us know as soon as you get an answer, yeah?”

Despite the sneer the other man gave the brunette, his nod was all Claude needed to feel secure in his plans. All that was left was to ask, “Is there anyone else who wants to add something?”

Everyone continued to remain silent, and Claude took that as a solid “no”.

“Alright. Then this meeting is adjourned.”

With a slap of his hand against the wood beneath him, everyone began to disperse from the war room. The Kingdom was the first to take off, most of them likely not too pleased with his judgement, before the Knights soon followed. Some of the Alliance lagged behind, opting to discuss what had just taken place amongst themselves. Either way, Claude did not care.

His head was aching from the meeting, and he soon rose to leave the room as well. He needed a break far, _far_ away from the others. No doubt none of the prince’s friends would want to speak to him now. Not for some time. A minor setback, but one that Claude felt was forcing him to tread on very thin ice. What waited for him at the bottom of the lake, however, was not certain. He just knew that one more misstep would send everything toppling down on him, and he’d drown as soon as it happened.

He mindlessly marched around the monastery, hoping to find at least one spot where he could enjoy his solitude, when he found himself in Garreg Mach’s graveyard. He didn’t know what led him here. But it was quiet, and he was alone, and so he took whatever the universe was willing to give him in this moment. Even if it meant being surrounded by death.

Claude moved across the small field to sit right where Jeralt’s grave would have been. Beneath the dirt was nothing. He knew this. Sitri’s body was deep, deep under the monastery where no one dared to walk, beyond an endless maze of secret tunnels full of traps and enemies. There was nothing beneath that stone tablet other than an empty casket used as decoration in case anyone got too curious. So he knew he was truly alone this time.

“...Claude...”

Or so he thought.

The duke turned his head, and standing before him was Byleth. Not totally surprising given how he stormed out of the war room just moments ago.

Not feeling up for a lecture, Claude turned away from him to stare at the gravestone. Sitiri’s name was beginning to fade from the engraving, and the only thing that could be clearly seen was the date of her death: Byleth’s birthday. If he had the energy for it, he would’ve scowled as his eyes slowly glanced over at the woman’s date of birth. Unfortunately, that, too, had faded to the point you could no longer even read what it said. No doubt this was done on purpose. Sitri was practically immortal, the seemingly only thing fatal to her being childbirth, because of the crest stone inside her chest. If the dates weren’t believable people would start asking questions.

Of course, as he was thinking of all of this, he had zoned out and, consequently, ignored the long speech Byleth appeared to be finishing up just now that he was listening in again.

“Teach,” he told him, “I’m not exactly in a big mood to listen to advice I already know I should follow.”

To this, the professor pressed his lips into a thin line. “I suppose. Then again, I knew you weren’t listening anyway. Something is bothering you.” Claude chuckled at that. Some things never changed, he supposed. Byleth had always been observant of him, and did a pretty damn good job with it too. Still, he really sometimes wished the other couldn’t read him so easily. This was not one of those times.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to keep everyone together during this war. There’s too many conflicting ideas.”

“You did it once before. Surely you can do it again.”

Claude shook his head. “That was different. I only had the Knights and the Alliance. Of course, our peers would follow our orders without question, and the Knights didn’t care what we did so long as it brought them closer to Rhea. With the Kingdom... Well, they want to take back their home, and they can’t look to their leader all ‘cause he’s lost his fucking mind. So they’re stuck with us.” Letting out a sigh, he went on, “I just don’t want everything to fall apart all ‘cause of one small dispute.”

“It won’t,” Byleth reassured.

“...How do you know?”

“Because I have faith in you, and so do the others.” Byleth placed a hand on Claude’s shoulder, his face holding a stern expression and yet, at the same time, a determined smile. “Rhea placed me in charge if anything were to happen to her, so you can leave the Knights to me. As for the Kingdom... The sooner we bring Dimitri to his senses, the sooner they can be satisfied. You just need to focus on the war and His Highness.”

“I...” Claude wasn’t sure what to say to that. In a sense, the professor was right. The Knights were willing to follow his orders regardless, especially considering Seteth and Rhea placed so much trust in him. Meaning the only ones he had to keep from fighting were his own people and that of the Kingdom. Now that that was more clear to him, he felt relieved.

“Yeah. I... Yeah. You’re right, Teach. Sorry. Guess it’s just...a lot.”

“Of course. You are reliving your past, Claude, and trying to change Fodlan for the better. It is understandable that you are stressed.”

“Heh. Right... Thanks, Teach.”

With a nod, the man replied, “Anytime.”

The two fell into silence afterwards, both staring at the gravestone with blank expressions. Neither of them really knew what else there was to say. Not that Claude was about to complain. He quite enjoyed this small moment of peace and quiet. It was something he was sure he wouldn’t see much of as the war went on.

Yet, there was something that was still bothering him. He still planned to leave for Almyra once the war was over and claim his place on the throne, meaning he would have to leave Byleth and Dimitri here in Fodlan. The former was likely to still take Rhea’s place as the archbishop—which Claude honestly preferred, as the Byleth he once knew was a much more benevolent and fair ruler of the Church than Rhea ever was—and the latter was to be crowned king once Fhirdiad was taken back by the Kingdom. The only question left was which one would rule over a unified Fodlan.

He didn’t want to place the task in Dimitri’s hands. The man would have too much weight on his shoulders having to rule over three territories in addition to rebuilding his homeland. Byleth would be in a similar position as the prince were he to take responsibility. So who would be left with the task?

Then an idea came to him.

“Hey, uh, Teach...”

“Yes, Claude?”

“Mind if I brainstorm a lil here with ya?”

Byleth, without turning to him, said, “Claude, what are you planning?”

His tone was rather dour and accusing, but Claude would not let that deter him. With one of his infamous grins and a laid back expression he said, “Hey, just hear me out on this one, alright?”

To which Byleth, though begrudgingly, replied, “...Fine. What is it?”

“I was just thinking about who was going to rule Fodlan when I head off to become king,” Claude explained. “At first, I thought it’d be His Highness, but I’m not sure how well the guy can handle that kind of pressure. Ya know, tryin’ to rebuild all of Fodlan on top of in his own kingdom and all that. The guy might just go mad again. And then I thought of you, but guessed that wouldn’t exactly be fair considering you would also have to worry about reforming the Church as the archbishop.”

“...Where are you going with this?”

“Look, I’m just saying, it might sound crazy, but-”

“ _ Claude _ .”

“-what if-”

“Claude,  _ no _ .”

“Hey, at least let me say it before you go dismissing my wonderful idea!”

“As brilliant as your schemes may be, allowing her to still live is a big gamble,” Byleth hissed. “How can we even be so sure she’ll take our side? She was set in her ways five years ago. I doubt enough has changed to make her choose a different path. Besides, we cannot guarantee she will leave Fodlan be after the war is over.”

“That, my friend, is where you are incorrect. Once Rhea is no longer in power, I doubt Her Majesty will do anything to harm the Church so long as it doesn’t have as much influence on Fodlan or give the Agarthans an excuse to rise up again. Once both are taken out of the equation, I’m sure she’ll want to listen.” Though, Claude had to agree: he doubted there was much of a chance for them to persuade Edelgard. However, it was his hope that she would side with them against the Agarthans at the very least. “Once that happens, everyone gets their happy ending. Rhea is absolved of her power, Edelgard gets to live, Dimitri gets to rule his kingdom, and I go on my merry way to Almyra.”

“Claude... I’m not so sure this will work,” the professor admitted. “I’m sure you can convince Rhea to step down, and for Dimitri to let go of his pain, but Edelgard? Don’t you think that’s quite a stretch?”

Claude shrugged in response. “Only way to find out is to try. Her death won’t mean much in the long run, but I’d like to avoid it if we can. She can focus on her Empire, Dimitri on the Kingdom, and you on the Church and Alliance once I’m gone. I want  _ everyone _ to have a better future in this Fodlan. Not just the people who are on our side. The less deaths, the better.”

“I...” The professor paused, taking a deep breath and holding on to it before slowly letting it go. “Alright. We will try.”

“Thanks, Teach. Glad you believe in me.”

Then, without batting an eye, the professor said, “Sometimes I really wish I didn’t.”

Claude playfully shoved the professor away, knocking the man onto the floor, and the two of them erupted into a fit of laughter. When they slowly started to calm down, Byleth got to his feet and smiled down at the duke.

“I should check on the others around the monastery. Good luck, Claude.”

“Yeah. Same to you,” he replied.

With a final nod of acknowledgment, Byleht turned on his heel and left the graveyard. Claude followed soon after, deciding to head towards the dining hall to grab some food more confident than ever.

All that sulking made him hungry, and he was dying to have a nice, warm meal after such a terryfing battle.


	37. Ailell - The Valley of Torment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letters from houses Daphnel and Fraldarius have arrived, but Claude must prepare for the ambush ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter this time around, folks. Not much on action tho if that was what you're looking for (sorry I suck at fight scenes I kNOW-) but stick around until the end for a few bloopers I couldn't help but think of while writing this.

It took some time, but just a few weeks after the battle with Randolph’s troops both letters arrived at Garreg Mach. Claude and Byleth had everyone gather in the entrance hall to hear the letters being read.

“‘My son, Felix, has filled me in on the details. He tells me you are in immediate need of additional supplies and troops,’” Byleth read aloud to everyone. “‘Though I cannot provide much of the former, given our position at the frontlines, I am willing to meet you at Ailell, the Valley of Torment, if it pleases you. Ailell is halfway between the monastery and our territory There, I will deliver the soldiers you require.’”

Sylvain sighed. “Ailell, huh?”

“What’s wrong with Ailell?” the professor asked. “And why is it called ‘the Valley of Torment’?”

Gilbert, with a stern expression, replied, “Ailell lies on the border between the Kingdom and Alliance. Humans dare not approach that place.”

“And it’s the best spot to hide from any lords wanting to intervene given its reputation,” Claude added. “Not to mention Judith seems to have the same idea as our good ol’ friend Rodrigue.”

The duke held up the letter from House Daphnel, opening it and beginning to read, “‘As this is a request from none other than the leader of the Alliance, I wish I could send troops at once. However... Openly leading soldiers within my territory could provoke other members of the Alliance. Therefore, I will secretly gather troops in Ailell, the Valley of Torment. From there, it should be a safe return to the monastery by following the border between the Kingdom and Alliance.’”

“Wow,” Hilda chirped, “talk about coincidence.”

“Well, it works in our favor, so I see no reason to complain,” Dorothea said.

“I have not heard of this ‘Valley of Torment’, but it does not sound good. Should we really be meeting them there?” Petra asked.

“I do recall a scary legend about it,” Marianne answered, “but I can’t seem to remember the details...”

“Well, let’s forget all that for now. It’s the best shot we’ve got at getting what we need to take on the Empire.”

Byleth nodded. “I agree with Claude. We should do our best to prepare for the trip. Bring as much as you can carry, including weapons.”

“Professor, I don’t think anyone’s gonna try to attack us at Ailell. That place is hot enough to melt your skin off!” Bernadetta cried.

“Still, wouldn’t you say it’s better to be safe than sorry?” Leonie suggested.

“And that is _exactly_ what I was thinking. Great job plannin’ ahead, Teach!” Claude turned to the remainder of their large group gathered in the hall. “Alright. You guys know what to do. We’ll be heading out first thing tomorrow, so pack all you can!”

With that order, everyone slowly dispersed from the hall, including the duke and professor.

Claude and Byleth made their way over to the Knight’s Hall to ensure they would be alone. They sat in front of the fireplace across the table upon which a map of Fodlan was laid out. Claude reached over towards where the valley was located just north of the monastery, directly between the Kingdom and Alliance.

“Here is where Ailell is,” he said. “There we’ll be meeting with House Fraldarius and Judith’s troops.”

“I feel a ‘but’ coming,” Byleth sighed. A chuckle escaped the duke’s lips.

“And you’d be right. Turns out, the last time we visited Ailell, someone ratted us out to House Rowe. If the Agarthans are still planning on stopping us, we should expect an ambush from Gwendal.”

Byleth’s face contorted, his brows furrowing. “House Rowe? Isn’t that a house in Kingdom territory?”

“Yes, it is.”

Claude nearly jumped out of his skin hearing the man speak. His and Byleth’s eyes turned away from the map to look up at the disheveled prince before them. To say the two were shocked to see him anywhere outside the cathedral would be an understatement.

But Byleth would not let his surprise be as obvious as Claude’s, given how unnerved his expression remained. The man simply said to the prince, “You’ve been listening.” A statement more than a question.

“How could I not when you two are as loud as you are?” he replied.

“I thought you’d be back at the cathedral after the meeting was adjourned,” the professor admitted. “Rarely is anyone over on this side of the monastery.”

Dimitri huffed. “Doesn’t matter. So, what do you plan to do?”

The prince’s eye was trained on Claude as he proposed the question. Of course it would be. Claude was always the one with the plan. He was the schemer. The one to put thought into everything with as much detail as he could muster. It was what he was good at.

And so the duke responded without missing a beat, “Well, if you’re willing to stick around, we could really use your input on some battle strategies for when we face against House Rowe. As much as I know about the future, if the incident with Solon and Kronya has taught me anything, we can’t rely too heavily on my say. So here’s what I’m thinking-”

“No. Not that.”

“Huh?”

“I heard you discussing a rat within the monastery. Someone who went and whispered our plans to those same cowards who sold out Faerghus to that witch,” Dimitri growled. “I thought you’d go ahead and concoct some sort of scheme to snuff them out. Unless your sign of loyalty isn’t the only thing you’ve fabricated...”

Claude wanted to think of his next words carefully. He looked over to the professor for some guidance, but the other’s expression had him second guessing the idea. His eyes darted back to Dimitri and his towering, intimidating force. There was no way to avoid confrontation. All he could do was let out a heavy sigh as he stood up and offered an easy smile.

“I agree, that would be the best option, save for one little flaw in that plan: we’d have to interrogate every soldier here without raising any suspicion,” he explained. “We never caught the guy last time, so to find him now would be near impossible without setting off alarms for the bastard. We’d be giving him a time window to escape.”

“Then we strike down any who flee.”

It was said so simply, so easily, that Claude couldn’t help but visibly frown.

“It’s too unpredictable of a situation. The last time I made such a gamble, well, you can see the results for yourself...” For such a statement, the duke received a scoff and a glare.

Meanwhile, the professor sat between the two forces. He sensed that neither man would back down from his position, but he knew he had to do something before things spiraled out of control again.

Byleth joined Claude on his feet, opening his arms to keep some distance between the both of them as he had no doubt his next words would anger at least one of them.

“I will ask around the monastery as subtly as I can,” he said. “But if I find nothing, the best we can hope to do is outsmart Gwendal and his men.”

The room fell into silence, none of the three speaking a word, too afraid of what may happen if one of them said the wrong thing or made the wrong move. The seconds that ticked by felt like hours, and the air was as thick as a wyvern’s hide while green eyes, full of apprehension, stared into a single, sunken orb of blue.

In the end, it was Dimitri who broke first. The man let out a sharp grunt before turning away and leaving the hall with quiet steps, both Claude’s and Byleth’s eyes trained on his retreating form. It wasn’t until the prince was completely out of sight that the latter looked over at the duke. His silence spoke a thousand words to the brunette, and Claude knew what he was asking him to do.

Regardless of his gut instinct telling him just how terrible of an idea this was, Claude sighed and left to follow Dimitri through the monastery.

* * *

Claude doesn’t need to search for very long. The sun had barely begun to set over the horizon by the time he found the prince alone in the cathedral, facing towards what was once a statue of the divine goddess now turned into nothing more than a pile of rubble. Not another soul can be found in any crevice or corner of the empty hall save for the prince and the duke.

The older of the two approached cautiously, his steps echoing off the tiled floor. But Dimitri did not turn to him. If the man had noticed his presence, he did not show it. When Claude was just close enough to see the bridge of the man’s hooked nose and the familiar black patch covering his right eye, he noticed the man’s gaze never leaving the pile of stone and dust in front of them. So he stepped closer still until he was standing right at Dimitri’s side.

As he walked towards the tall, blond man, he was able to hear a soft muttering that would occasionally grow panicked, then confident, then, lastly, deep and guttural as the prince promised the head of his step sister to his ghosts. But when Claude took position beside him, Dimitri grew quiet, as if he finally recognized his surroundings, yet did not address the duke.

An awkward silence fell upon them, just as it did in the Knight’s Hall, with the exception of Claude as the one to cut the tension between the two men.

“Sorry for just barging in on ya,” he said. “But I hope you don’t mind me just enjoying the scenery.”

No response came. The brunette expected that, of course, but was disappointed all the same. He fell quiet again. Perhaps, if he gave the prince some room to speak, Dimitri would be the one to address whatever was going on between them. At least, that was Claude’s hope. One he didn’t have too much faith in, but wanted and embraced all the same.

That was...not the result, however.

Claude noticed how the sun’s brilliant glow was slowly beginning to fade—replacing bright yellow light with an orange hue reflecting off the glass and marble within the cathedral—as time passed by, and yet neither one still said a word to the other. If nothing was said now, it never will be.

Heaving out a sigh and with a bow of the head, Claude said, “You know killing her won’t bring them back, right?”

The man didn’t need to look up to see Dimitri’s head snap in his direction, his single, pale blue eye glaring daggers into his very being.

“What did you say?” he growled.

“I said killing Edelgard isn’t going to bring them back,” the other replied. “Taking her life will only renew whatever cycle you’re dealing with right now.”

Dimitri scoffed at him. “Maybe so, but at least their souls will be put to rest.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“...They’ve said as much to me,” the prince admitted. Claude snuck a peak at the man from the corner of his eye, and noticed he had returned his gaze to the rubble. “Every night, since that day, I would hear their pleas, their cries for vengeance, as they cling to me. I could hardly sleep or think without their voices deafening my ears. My father, step-mother, and Glenn... They wanted me to find those responsible for their deaths. When we found Edelgard to be the Flame Emperor, it was her head they would demand.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...You think of me as a monster, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Claude responded. “Do I?”

Dimitri hissed in warning, “Claude...”

To this, the duke shook his head, a soft yet pained smile painting his lips. “The answer is ‘no’, Dima. I don’t.”

Claude was scared to look up. Not because of Dimitri, but because of how the other would react. He knew it was foolish to think that. Still, he had hope. Could anyone blame him for it?

But he still wanted a glimpse of the man’s face, and so Claude turned to look up at him to find Dimitri staring down. His gaze met Dimitri’s and, for a moment, he saw the familiar shine of the bright, selfless knight he had fallen for five years ago. The circles beneath the other’s eye seemed to fade away, replaced by the tender glow of pale skin. The hardened edges of the man’s jaw, accompanied by the slightest hint of golden stubble that reflected the flow of time and hardship, were barely noticeable. For a moment that lasted just a few seconds, Dimitri seemed like himself again.

But the deep echo of laughter ringing through the cathedral washed away that vision, and Claude was shoved back into reality once more. Dimitri, the one with darkness reflecting through his eye and sharp, grueling features that grew in place of the soft gentleness Claude had come to know, was laughing at him.

“You are truly a fool, von Riegan,” the man mocked the duke.

“If getting through with you makes me a fool, then call me the Jester of Fodlan,” Claude retorted. “I don’t care. You’re still very dear to me, Dima, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get through this.”

“Enough. You are only making yourself sound ridiculous.”

Claude huffed. “Maybe. But I won’t make the same mistakes as before. I want to help you, Dimitri. I...” Should he say it? No, now was not a good time for a confession. There was too much weight in such words for either of them to handle. He’d tell him someday, but not today. “...I... I truly do care for you, more than anything. Please, just let me help you.”

Despite the duke’s hopes, Dimitri’s glare only deepened, though the reaction was of no surprise.

“Is this one of your pranks?” the prince asked. “A scheme of some sort? If so, I will not be fooled again, Riegan.”

The duke shook his head once more. “It’s not, I swear it. I’m done holding secrets, Dimitri. I’ll even prove it to you. Ask me anything. Anything about the future, about what I know, and I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

“Ha! As if I would trust the words of a traitor. I should-”

“Gods, I’m _not_ a traitor!” Claude shouted. “Look, I get it, I won’t be able to just waltz in here and get you to change your mind. But I’m still willing to try. Will you just...try _with_ me?”

Claude looked up at Dimitri with hope, his expression soft as he frowned, but the prince said nothing in return. They stood there staring at one another in silence—at which, at this point, Claude was beginning to grow tired of—before Dimitri looked away. Claude followed shortly after, his gaze falling to the floor.

Then, feeling bold, Claude reached his hand out to grasp Dimitri’s. He expected the taller man to flinch or even pull away from his touch, but, to his pleasant surprise, he didn’t. Dimitri remained motionless as their knuckles grazed against one another, and Claude saw that as a soon to continue. He moved closer, placing his gloved palm against the prince’s gauntleted hand and intertwining their fingers.

Were they to remove the sewn cloth, metal, and leather that kept their skin from touching, Claude was certain that Dimitri’s hold would feel warmer than the summer sun back home. It felt...nice. He wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Even now, as things were, Claude felt glad to have this small moment. He just couldn’t help but wonder if Dimitri felt the same.

Then, as if the prince had read his mind, Claude felt something tighten its grip on him. He looked at his and the prince’s hands to see Dimitri was actually holding him in return. Claude’s eyes lit up, and his gaze jumped towards the man’s face.

Dimitri held a deep frown, and his expression was a complicated mix of somber, guilty, and many other emotions Claude wasn’t sure he could describe. The prince looked so pained, and yet, at the same time, so at peace. Claude felt his heart twist strangely at the sight, and his mind was pleading with him to comfort the poor man.

Then, he heard Dimitri mutter ever so softly, “Khalid... I...”

Nothing followed the broken sentence, but Claude understood it enough. He squeezed Dimitri’s hand in return with a smile.

“It’s alright, Dima. I’m here,” he whispered. “Just... Whenever you’re ready.”

A small nod came in response, though it was barely noticeable. Nothing more than a subtle movement that could be easily missed if one had blinked as it was happening. But it was more than enough for Claude to know that his dear prince was still there, that he could still be saved from his demons, and he felt confident again.

As the sun finally disappeared below the horizon and the moon and stars filled the night sky, Claude and Dimitri stood by one another’s side well into the night just as they were, squeezing one another’s hand every so often to ensure the other was still there.

* * *

Just as predicted, someone had reported to House Rowe of their plans. Gwendal and his troops intercepted their army as soon as they reached Ailell, and a fearsome battle ensued.

The Kingdom soldiers seemed to have been struggling in their battles due to the intense heat—a given considering the harsh winters their people live through back in Faerghus territory—but Claude and Byleth had, luckily, planned ahead. Each battalion was composed of soldiers from across the three armies: the Knights of Seiros, the Kingdom, and the Alliance. Where one person lacked, another would fight in their place. They would deal with much less casualties on their side that way.

Claude had thanked the gods for that strategy, too. The duke had noticed the increased number of troops from the last time he battled Dukedom soldiers in Ailell. The Agarthans must’ve taken into account the large scale of their army this time around.

But it was not enough, for in the end their army under the Crest of Flames had been victorious. Gwendal and his soldiers had fallen to their skill and might before either of their reinforcements had arrived.

Judith and Duke Fraldarius approached the army together after their victory with smiles on their faces.

“Well, well, seems you were able to handle this band of misfits all by yourselves, huh?” the hero of House Daphnel joked. “I’m starting to reconsider sending extra troops.”

“Come on, Judith, don’t be like that... We seriously need more supplies. We’re already starting to run out of food,” Claude insisted.

“Come now, boy. I was merely joking.”

Claude did not miss the way Byleth snickered beside him, and he swore he felt his eye twitch. “And can you quit calling me that? I’m the leader of the Alliance now! It’s not proper-”

“Oh, you wanna talk about proper, hm? Says the ‘leader’ who has neglected the Alliance for the past five years looking for his boyfriend-”

“Judith! He’s not my- Ugh, nevermind...” Claude let out a huff as he rubbed his temples. “We should get to business.”

“Right. Well, as you can see, I’ve brought soldiers and supplies, as promised.”

“As have I,” Duke Fraldarius said. “I suppose we never formally met, Duke Riegan. My name is Rodrigue Fraldarious. I was the late king’s right hand, and Dimitri’s caretaker after his passing. If you don’t mind me asking, is His Highness truly here?”

Claude gave the man a nod. “Yep. Just over-”

“I’m right here.”

The duke almost let out a surprised squeak at the sound of Dimitri’s voice coming from straight behind him.

_ He’s really gotta stop doing that... _

“It has been too long, Your Highness!” Rodrigue chirped. “To see you safe and sound... Ah, forgive me, I’ve become overzealous. This is war after all.”

Dimitri shook his head. “So you have not changed at all.”

“Do not let looks deceive you. I’ve had it rough ever since I crossed blades with those traitors in Fhirdiad. When I heard you’d been executed, I rushed there as fast as I could, blind with fury. When I got there, I was fed some garbage about not being able to see your body. Then I...”

The man closed his eyes to take a deep breath, and turned to Gilbert as he exhaled sharply to release whatever frustration was likely building up at the memory.

“Gilbert, you have done well to locate His Highness. I am truly grateful.”

Gilbert nodded in return, but said nothing more. Then, Rodrigue turned to his son.

“And Felix, you have also done well to bring His Highness here.”

Instead of accepting the praise like Claude had expected, however, Felix crossed his arms defensively and scoffed at his father.

“Wasn’t me,” he said. He pointed over to Claude. “This fool was the only who apparently had spent years tracking down the boar. Don’t know why he’d even bother...”

“Ah.” Rodrigue then switched his gaze over to Claude, who did not miss the way the older man narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at his son’s sharp tongue. But the moment their eyes locked that expression seemed to have faded out of existence, as if it had never been there at all. “In that case, I should thank you as well, Duke Riegan. I know you have had your fair share with the Empire’s persistence, but to go out of your way to search for His Highness... Truly, I am grateful.”

The man gave Claude a slight bow, of which the duke simply shrugged off with a laid-back grin. “No need to thank me. Honestly don’t know what I’d do without the big guy around,” he said, letting out a soft laughter. It took him an extra moment to realize the weight of his words.

_ Oh, shit. Me and my big mouth... _

Rodrigue didn’t seem to notice it, though, if his returned smile was anything to go off of.

“Indeed. Without forces combined, victory against the Empire is guaranteed. But first I think we should reclaim Fhirdiad,” he said. “That way we would have more troops and supplies to spare without having to worry of collapsing against Cornelia’s forces.”

“There is no time for that,” Dimitri replied. “We must annihilate Enbarr before all else.”

“But, Your Highness-”

“Enough!” the prince screamed. “I have come to a decision, and it is final. Everyone else has come to an agreement. Right, Claude?”

_ Oh, gods, why? _

“Uh...” What should he say? “Um... Yeah. Enbarr is our goal. Heh... Hundred percent, your princeliness.”

“Then it is settled. I will hear no more of this discussion.” Dimitri then turned to their troops. “Let us return to the monastery,” he declared.

Though hesitant, everyone seemed to be in agreement with his orders. The army slowly fell back to regroup and head together towards Garreg Mach with Judith, Rodrigue, Gilbert, Byleth, Felix, and Claude behind. The six of them all exchanged a silent look before Judith let out a heavy sigh.

“Well, I’ll be joining you from now on to help end this war, so we might as well get going.”

With that, the woman didn’t hesitate to follow the rest of the army. Felix quietly followed her, and if his scowl towards his father was any indication it was likely so he could get away from Rodrigue. And Claude thought  _ he _ had issues with his parents...

Rodrigue, too, eventually let out a slow, exhausted huff before leaving the scene with Gilbert. Now it was only Byleth and Claude.

The duke turned to look over at the professor, who simply returned his gaze for a short moment before shaking his head and treading forward.

This was going to be an issue...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here are some bloopers:  
> _________________________________________
> 
> “Well, well, seems you were able to handle this band of misfits all by yourselves, huh?” the hero of House Daphnel joked. “I’m starting to reconsider sending extra troops.”  
> “Come on, Judith, don’t be like that... We seriously need more supplies. We’re already starting to run out of food,” Claude insisted.  
> “Come now, boy. I was merely joking.”  
> Claude did not miss the way Byleth snickered beside him, and he swore he felt his eye twitch. “And can you quit calling me that? I’m the leader of the Alliance now! It’s not proper-”  
> “Oh, you wanna talk about proper, hm? Says the ‘leader’ who has neglected the Alliance for the past five years looking for his himbo, six-foot boyfriend with a 9-inch di-"  
> "OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH!"
> 
> _________________________________________
> 
> “As have I,” Duke Fraldarius said. “I suppose we never formally met, Duke Riegan. My name is Rodrigue Fraldarious. I was the late king’s right hand, and Dimitri’s caretaker after his passing. If you don’t mind me asking, is my son truly here?"  
> "Yeah, Felix is-"  
> "Oh, I wasn't talking about Felix."  
> "I... You..." Claude glanced over at the swordmaster. "Uh... Mind explaining?"  
> Felix, in his unsurprising disappointment, could only sigh. "I'm used to it..."
> 
> _________________________________________
> 
> “Gilbert, you have done well to locate His Highness. I am truly grateful.”  
> Gilbert nodded in return, but said nothing more. Then, Rodrigue turned to his son.  
> “And Felix, you have also done well to bring His Highness here.”  
> "Shut up, Dad. Ugh, you're embarrassing!"  
> In a small fit similar to a raging toddler, Felix stormed off, leaving the others to stand in confusion amongst one another.  
> Claude, attempting his best to stifle his laughter, said, "...Well that was unexpected."
> 
> _________________________________________
> 
> “Enough!” the prince screamed. “I have come to a decision, and it is final. Everyone else has come to an agreement. Right, Claude?”  
> Oh, gods, why?  
> “Uh...” What should he say? “Um... Yeah. Enbarr is our goal. Heh... Hundred percent, your princeliness.”  
> "..."  
> "..."  
> "..."  
> "..."  
> "...Fucking simp."  
> "TEACH NOT YOU TOO-!"
> 
> _________________________________________
> 
> Yeah, these were all a lot funnier in my head. ANYWAY I'm tired and have to attend my school's orientation at 9 in the morning so peace out!


	38. The Faerghus Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude speaks to the Faerghus Trio—Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix—as he prepares himself for what awaits them on the other side of the Great Bridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll. Back at it again with another update.
> 
> I noticed how much you guys actually liked the bloopers from the last update, so I'll definitely try to incorporate more as the rest of the story goes on (with a notice at the beginning of course).
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys so much for reading and please enjoy this new update!

Once everyone had made it safely back to the monastery, another war council was called. This time, however, Judith and Rodrigue would be involved. Claude feared there would be another clash of ideas that’d leave them in a rut, offering an opportunity for the Empire to strike again. But to his surprise, the Kingdom was very docile when ideas regarding the capture of Enbarr were brought up. Everyone had come to the conclusion that it was the best way to liberate Fodlan from Edelgard and her forces. At least, so long as Dimitri believed it was so, the Kingdom would as well.

Dimitri was also adding his input more than he usually did during the _very_ few instances he actually tagged along when everyone would come together to decide their next move instead of sticking himself in the cathedral freaking out the clergy and soldiers visiting to offer Sothis their prayers.

In the end, it was all decided. Not only would they find Rhea if they took the capital—a fact presented when Judith revealed one of her own soldiers witnessed Rhea being taken by Imperial soldiers five years ago—but the Kingdom and Alliance would be free from invasion once the city fell, and the Empire along with it. So their next move was to cross the Great Bridge of Myrddin, cross Gronder Field, and continue to force their way into Imperial territory before taking Edelgard head on at Enbarr. A simple, linear plan.

Once the meeting was over, everyone left to leave the generals to decide battle tactics. Those generals being Rodrigue, Gilbert, Dimitri, Byleth, and Claude. They knew they would likely face heavy opposition at the Great Bridge.

Claude suggested using forces from House Riegan and Daphnel to distract Count Gloucster’s soldiers and pull them up north away from the bridge. Meanwhile, they’d go with the Kingdom army as well as the Knights to seize Myrddin from the Empire and use it as a base—liberating Gloucster territory from Imperial control and fixing their position one step closer to the capital. The others in the room agreed.

“Let us not forget that the heir to House Aegir is being stationed at the bridge. We will likely have to face him as well as the Emperor’s other general, Ladislava,” Gilbert said. “I am aware that you have ex-Imperials within your forces, Riegan. Including the second son of Count Bergliez and Count Hevring’s first born. Are you sure they can be trusted?”

To that, Claude sighed. “Yeah. Unfortunately, this war means they’ll have to fight old friends, even family, but they’ve sworn their loyalty to me. You don’t have to worry about any mutiny from them. Especially Linhardt.”

“Indeed. I recall him having a strong distaste for taking his father’s place as the head of House Hevring,” Byleth chimed in. “Him and Caspar are very close. If one chooses to stay, the other will follow. As for the others: Petra has very good reason to side against the Empire—she is doing it for her people so they may be independent from any foreign control—and Bernadetta has informed me that she has no intention of claiming her birthright either. Dorothea may only ask that we spare the citizens, as she isn’t nobility and likely still has good friends and family in Enbarr, but I am sure she understands why we must fight back. None of them will betray any of us.”

“It does not matter whether they do or not. They will be slain with the rest of those fools if they turn their backs to us,” Dimitri growled.

“Your Highness-”

“We won’t be killing _anyone_ who isn’t a direct enemy,” Claude replied. “I understand your hatred towards the Empire, Your Highness, but this isn’t the time to make death threats to our allies. Mindless killing solves nothing.”

The prince scoffed, almost snarling as he said to the duke, “That woman has mercisley taken more lives than anything. _That_ is mindless killing, Claude. Taking the lives of innocents in Duscur and Fodlan is something that cannot be forgiven. They must pay! Father, step-mother, Glenn, even Dedue...”

“Wait, Dedue? What happened to Dedue?” Byleth asked.

Ah. That was right. Dedue had been with Dimitri and the others when they fled from the monastery, and he had even seen him at Gronder in his previous life. How could he have not noticed his absence among the Lions? Then again, he was always so quiet and kept to himself very often. Still, what could possibly keep such a devoted man away from one of the few people that truly cared for him?

The look on Dimitri’s face that formed at the mention of the retainer’s name gave Claude a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly had his answer.

“When?” he asked. Vague enough to avoid hitting any still-healing wounds.

“When I was captured in Fhirdiad,” the prince replied. “Just before the day I was to be executed, Dedue broke into the dungeon and freed me. Imperial soldiers then came to stop us from leaving the city. I managed to escape, but he...”

“...Dimitri, I-”

“Enough. It doesn’t matter now. I will avenge them. That woman’s head is mine.”

The room fell into silence. No one said a word to follow the prince’s bold declaration. It suddenly made more sense to them. At least, it was to Claude. Dedue had been Dimitri’s final breaking point. Knowing his friend had died to save him, to protect him, was all it took for the chains to snap in two. Now here Dimitri was: feral and dangerous. It wasn’t just about Edelgard anymore. Dimitri wanted justice for his loved ones.

Claude just wished he could show him how to get it the right way. The Empire wasn’t to blame for Duscur, or even Dedue’s death. No. It was merely a puppet, a scapegoat, for the Agarthans, and the prince had taken the bait. They wouldn’t be able to plan a proper attack against Those Who Slither in the Dark so long as Dimitri still believed it was Edelgard who was behind it all.

Something needed to be done, and it had to happen now.

After just a few short minutes of silence amongst the five of them, Claude let out a deep and heavy sigh.

“Alright. Meeting dismissed. I’ll send word to House Daphnel and Riegan with Judith in just a bit. Everyone else should focus on preparing to face heavy Imperial artillery at the Great Bridge.”

All within the room nodded in agreement, and they dispersed. Rodrigue and Gilbert left together as Dimitri stormed out the room, likely to return to the cathedral, and so only Byleth and Claude were left.

The professor turned to the duke. “Claude. After this we will be heading into Gronder.”

“I know.”

“Will you be able to handle it?”

“I’ll be fine,” the brunette replied.

“Last time you said that, His Highness bonked you so hard on the head with the butt of his lance you got a concussion.”

“Teach, I’ll be alright. We’ve got the Kingdom on our side now. The only people we’ll be killing there are faces we may not even recognize.”

“Yes, but will you be okay with _Dimitri_?” the man asked. “We know he may just meet his fate on that field if we don’t act cautiously, even if he’s on our side.”

“I...” Claude bit his lip, groaning in defeat. He had been caught. “No. No, I don’t think I’ll be okay, but I can’t focus on that right now. There’s so many other things at stake here! It’s gonna take time for him to snap out of it. I’m sure I’ve made _some_ progress, but-”

“Claude. I think it’s time you speak with them.”

“What?”

“To his friends. Ingrid and Sylvain and Felix. You said you worked with the Kingdom after Gronder to take on the Empire. Surely this will be no different?”

_Oh, Teach, if only you knew._

“I... I guess I can try,” the duke replied. “But I can’t make any promises that they’ll open up to me. I never got to bond with them in this life.”

“Well, no time like the present.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Ugh. I hate you sometimes.”

“Love you too, Khalid. Besides, you’re just as insufferable if not moreso.”

“Hey! I take great offense to that.”

“Claude, just speak to them,” the professor insisted. “I am sure Ingrid and Sylvain will be civil towards you. I cannot say the same for Felix, but it is better than going in circles trying to come up with a plan.”

“...Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Now then, I should go help Yuri with some ruffians causing a commotion in Abyss. I’ll see you at dinner.”

With that, the professor turned to take his leave. But Claude, being the petty little shit he is, shouted with a bright grin on his face to Byleth, “Have fun on your date, Teach! Give your boyfriend my regards!”

Claude got no answer. At least, not verbally. What he did get, however, was a quick flip of the finger from the ex-mercenary. The duke let out a soft chuckle as his teacher left the room, but his laugh slowly died down once he felt he was alone. A sour look spread across his face, and it was clear he was in no way looking forward to this discussion with the band of Faerghus friends.

Still, if it was for Dimitri, he was willing to go through with it.

* * *

The first person Claude visits, against his better judgement, is Sylvain. Despite his previous history with the man, he knew Felix had yet to perish in this timeline, and so the Gautier heir would hold no ill-will towards him. Making him the easiest to approach.

He found Sylvain by the stables, chatting with one of the female staff as usual, when Claude approached him with an easy grin. He gave a friendly wave and a shout to announce his presence, instantly catching the knight’s attention.

“Oh, hey Claude. Was there something you needed?” the redhead asked.

“Uh, yeah, but...” The duke coughed into his fist, his eyes gesturing towards the woman Sylvain had been previously chatting with. The knight followed his gaze and got the message.

With a smile as fake as Hilda’s excuses, he said to her, “Ah, sorry, babe, but we’ve gotta talk. Important war business and all. _But_ I will see _you_ later, hm?”

The girl giggled sheepishly into her palm and nodded. “Sure thing.”

“Great. You’re so understanding and sweet-”

“ _Sylvain_.”

“Right. Right. Uh, see you later.”

The girl gave another nod to the knight before turning to Claude and giving a polite bow. Then, she turned on her heel and left the two to their own devices. Once she was clear from sight, Sylvain turned back to the duke.

“So, is there some secret tactic that you want me in on or...?”

“I didn’t come to talk to you about the war,” Claude admitted. “I... I wanted to talk about Dimitri. If that’s alright with you.”

The skepticism in Sylvain’s golden eyes instantly replaced the man’s laid-back shine. “...What about him?”

“I want to know more about his...condition, so to speak. He’s a crucial aspect to winning this war, but he’s practically useless with the way he just charges head first into a fight for the sake of his ‘vengeance’. I need to stop him before he gets himself killed.”

At first, Sylvain tells him nothing. The man simply bows his head, followed by a sharp inhale, as one would do when frustration took hold of them, before lifting his gaze again. This time, instead of suspicion, Claude saw within him a deep sorrow.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I didn’t really get to see him after he returned from Duscur. I just know that, from what Felix has told me, he was covered in blood and just looked...broken. Ever since that day he’s just been acting strange,” the knight explains. “I was more focused on helping Felix get through the loss of his brother. I don’t know if that makes me a bad friend to His Highness, but I know nothing beyond him just...being weird. Sorry.”

Claude wasn’t very surprised by this answer, but couldn’t help letting out a huff as a result of his disappointment.

“Nah, that’s to be expected. I don’t think Dimitri would’ve wanted you guys to worry so much, so it’s likely he tried hiding how he felt from you.” This earned Claude a somber chuckle.

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” the knight replied. “But if you want to know more, I suggest talking to Ingrid. She’s been more involved in knowing how His Highness has been doing than I ever have. Though, she might still be a little sore on the subject, so try to go easy on her, will ya?”

Claude nodded. “Of course. I know this can’t be easy for you guys.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“Heh. Yeah... Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Same here,” Sylvain said.

“Right. Thank you, Sylvain. I mean it.”

The knight gave a sharp nod in response, seemingly ending their conversation there. Claude was about to turn around to go and find the other childhood companion when a thought occurred to him.

He wasn’t so sure how Felix and Sylvain had developed in these past five years. But seeing as he just caught the latter flirting with yet another woman, he doubted they went anything past “best friends”. With that thought in mind, Claude could only think of the other Sylvain and his bitterness towards the war—and, by extension, Claude himself—after Felix’s death at Gronder. With the battle fast approaching, the duke wondered just where the knight’s mind was at the moment. It was clear the two were closer than friends, but he doubted the man would make any moves in the near future.

So the duke turned just halfway back to Sylvain, his face having grown stern as he caught the other’s confused gaze. With a firm tone he told him, “Oh, and, uh, no offense, but I suggest you get your act together.”

“Um... What?” the man asked, his tone going equally as hostile. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, already. It’s so blatantly obvious how you guys feel. Honestly, I’m just getting second-hand embarrassment,” Claude said, shaking his head. “But seriously. You should make a move before it’s too late. This is war. There’s no time to dance around your feelings, Gautier. Neither of you are promised tomorrow. Might as well make the time you have together last.”

The shocked look on Sylvain’s face that followed was all Claude needed to know he had hit the mark. So they hadn’t done anything, had they? He couldn’t say he was surprised.

The knight’s flustered expression slowly faded into one of knowing disappointment, and he audibly sighed. “Yeah. I guess so. Heh...”

“Good. I hope it goes well for you. Truly, I do.”

Sylvain gave no response. His gaze had fallen to the floor, and it was clear that he needed some time alone with his thoughts. Claude would grant him that need.

The duke quickly turned on his heel and moved forward, beginning his search for the pegasus knight.

He eventually found her in the entrance hall standing between a pillar and the far left corner of the room. The woman seemed to be in deep thought with the way she was staring intensely at the ground beneath her feet, and so the duke made sure to give a loud enough welcome for her to catch his presence.

“Ah. Claude, it’s you. Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, everything’s just dandy. But, uh, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you somethin’.”

“Oh? Is it battle strategy? Because I do have some ideas that I think would be useful.”

Claude shook his head. “No, no, though I appreciate the offer. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I talk to Teach about how we plan to capture the bridge later this week. But it’s...something else I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”

Ingrid, though surprised, didn’t seem all that fazed by his statement. “Oh. Well, what is it?”

“It’s...Dimitri.”

And like that, her face instantly fell.

“Ah. I see...”

“It’s nothing wrong,” he quickly added, “but I just... Look, we both want him to survive this war, but the way he just throws himself at the enemy is a guaranteed death sentence. I want to help, but I can’t do that without understanding _why_ he’s acting this way first.”

“Well, I guess it’s a bit of a story...” Ingrid took a deep breath. “Surely you’ve heard of the Tragedy by now, yes? Well, His Highness was the only survivor. The king, his wife, and Glenn—Felix’s brother—as well as many others perished during the attack. His Highness claimed he saw who had done it, but none believed him. Everyone just blamed the citizens of Duscur. I...have my own feelings about that, but I hadn’t noticed anything drastic change in his behavior since the incident. Thought I suppose that is my own fault...”

“Lemme guess, too busy with your own grievances, huh?”

Ingrid nodded. “Glenn and I... We were engaged. I cared deeply for him, and I looked up to him. Perhaps I had been too busy mourning his death that I did not care to note just how poorly His Highness was taking all of it... To witness something like that, surely anyone would lose their minds.”

“Right...”

“I’m sorry, Claude, but I... I don’t feel like talking anymore about this, nor do I know very much. The only person I can think of who would be remotely close to knowing what is going on with His Highness is Felix. However...”

“Don’t worry,” Claude said. “I’m expecting some backhanded comments coming my way. Just...take care of yourself, yeah?”

“I- ...Right. Yes. Thank you, and you as well. Just...please, do not take anything he says personally.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now then, I’m off. Was great gettin’ to chat with you, Ingrid.”

The woman nodded. “Yes. Good luck, Claude.”

“Thanks.” _I’m gonna need it._

With that, Claude bid Ingrid goodbye, and went out to search for the bitter swordsman. In an attempt to think like Felix in order to find him, Claude made a beeline for the training grounds where—you guessed it—the second son to Duke Fraldarius was honing his skill on a practice dummy.

Unlike the others, Claude did not need to call attention to himself once he entered the training grounds. The moment the doors closed behind him, Felix took a pause from his training to look at the duke and scowl.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

Claude lifted his hands in surrender. “Whoa, bud, no need to be so hostile. I just came here to talk.”

Felix scoffed. “About what?”

“I know you don’t have too much of a positive view on the guy, but I need to talk to you about-”

“I refuse to do anything if it’s related to the boar,” Felix hissed. “Now if that’s all you needed me for, leave. You have your answer.”

_ Yep, walked right into that one... _

Claude let out a heavy sigh as he stepped closer to the swordsman. “Felix, I’m being serious.”

“As am I. Leave.”

“No. You rely on Dimitri just as the rest of us whether you want to admit it or not. For the sake of the gods, you two were friends!”

Felix narrowed his eyes at the duke. “Yeah. Emphasis on ‘were’. Besides, why do  _ you _ care so much about it? Not even my father is this clingy to that beast.”

_ Gods fucking damn it, why is he making this so difficult? _

“I... Well...”

“Hmph. That’s what I thought.” Felix turned away from Claude, grabbing his sword and shoving it back into its sheath before shoving his way past him to leave the training grounds. Claude watched as panic began to flood his mind.

_ Fuck, fuck, shit, FUCK! I can’t just let him walk away! _ he thought. _ What to do... What to do... Come on, Khalid, think! What’s something I can use to- _

_... _

_... _

_... _

_ Fuck me. Ugh. Guess it’s better than nothing. _

“Felix, wait!” Claude cried after the swordsman, leaping forward to grab the other by his shoulder. Felix, out of instinct, shoved Claude off him and growled.

“Don’t fucking touch me! Seriously, don’t you understand the meaning of ‘fuck off’? Or is that not how it works in the Alliance?”

“No! I’m being serious, I can explain everything, just give me a chance!” the duke pleaded.

“I don’t want to hear it. Now shut the fuck up and leave me be.”

With that, Felix once more turned on his heel to escape Claude’s persistence. The duke, ignoring his cautiousness in favor of his will to know, shouted to the other man:

“Dimitri is going to die!”

Felix stopped dead in his tracks. The man’s body turned rigid the moment those words left the duke’s lips. For a moment, Claude feared he had only further angered him, and he would storm out of the grounds to get away from the duke. No doubt he was thinking he had lost his fucking mind. Any sensible person would.

But, instead, Felix stood firm, his voice turning stern to hide the quivering in his tone as he asked the other, “What did you say?”

_ Fuck. Didn’t mean to say _ that _. But... Guess there’s no turning back now. _

“I... Look, I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“Just repeat what you fucking said.”

“...”

For a moment, there was silence. Claude could see the way Felix’s body began to tremble—whether it was out of fear or anger, he couldn’t tell—but he knew any further waiting would only make him worse. So, Claude took a deep breath and prepared himself for the worst.

“I said he’s going to die.”

“How the fuck do you know that? Huh?” Felix growled. “What, you got some freaky powers that let you see into the future? Or is that a  _ threat _ you’re making?”

“Felix, I-”

“Because if you so much as fucking dare to lay a finger on that bastard, I’ll kill you where you stand right here, right now, so fucking help me Claude!”

“Can I fucking finish without you barking down my damn throat for once?” Claude screamed in retaliation. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not going to hurt him! Just  _ fucking listen _ to me!”

Felix did not reply, he only turned to the duke. His honey-colored eyes were sharp as he glared daggers into Claude’s form. For a moment, Claude expected him to make another quip or threat, but his silence was enough for him to understand he had permission to explain himself.

Sighing in relief that Felix was willing to listen for once, Claude told the swordsman, “I’m going to sound really crazy to you right now, but take my word when I say this. And I need you to keep this just between us. Please.”

“...Alright. What is it?”

“I... I’m from the future,” he admitted. “I know, crazy, like I said, but hear me out: I came from a Fodlan that had already lived through the war. We managed to defeat Edelgard and liberate the country, uniting it as one, but after I returned from my wedding I woke up back at my old dorm in the body of a younger version of myself. And if you don’t believe me, think of it like this: before any rumors even began to spread about how the crown prince may still be alive, why would I have gone out on my infamous search parties before anyone else unless I knew he wasn’t actually executed?”

Felix pulled his lips into a thin line. “I...suppose that adds up. But, for argument’s sake, let’s say you really were from the future. Why didn’t you tell us Edelgard was the Flame Emperor or that she would start this war?”

Claude sighed. He knew he’d have to answer for that eventually. “I didn’t know the implications of such an action. I wanted to expose her, to avoid the war and stop her before everything went to shit, but I think we’ve all seen how His Highness acted when he found out five years ago. Not to mention it’s not just the Empire we’re up against.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Okay, but you seriously have to promise not to tell anyone.” That earned an eye roll from the swordsman.

“Yeah, whatever, just tell me so we can hurry this up.”

“Right, right. Well, the Empire’s working with this secret group known as ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark’. They’re an ancient band of humans who excel in dark magic and have pretty advanced technology, and they’ve been hiding in the shadows of Fodlan for hundreds of years. If I exposed Edelgard too soon, I might not have been able to build an army large enough to take them on before they came after me next. Good thing too, because they caught on that I had somehow come from the future and ordered Edelgard to attack the monastery earlier than she had in my own timeline.”

“Okay. So...what? You want to liberate Fodlan again? Fight Edelgard and this secret group again?”

“Not just that. I mean it when I say Dimitri is going to die if we don’t snap him out of this ditch he’s put himself in. In my world, half of the Kingdom was destroyed at Gronder Field. Including Dimitri.”

Felix’s face contorted into shock. “You... You’re lying.” Claude shook his head in response.

“I’m not. I... I saw it with my own eyes. He was killed right in front of me,” Claude explained. “You and him both met your ends on that field, as did many others. I want to avoid that bloodshed. My first step was getting you guys on our side so it’d be two armies against one. Now I need to make sure Dimitri lives through it as well.”

“And how are we supposed to do anything about it?”

“He died because of his own blind rage. If I manage to get him to return to his senses before the battle, he may not just charge at anyone he sees on that field.”

“And where do I fit into this?” Felix asked. “Why come to me for help?”

“I want to know more about him. We...weren’t nearly as close before I was returned to my days at the Academy. I’ve learned a lot more about him with this second chance, but he still didn’t tell me much.” Claude gave Felix a pleading look, his brows knitting upward as a frown was pulled across his lips. “Please, Felix, if you know anything that can help me at least get one step closer to helping Dimitri, I need to know.”

There was a clear hesitance in Felix’s body and in his gaze. He looked Claude up and down, as if examining him in hopes of finding signs of insincerity. But Claude would not falter. Eventually, after a few beats of nothing between the two men, Felix had given in with a sharp exhale.

“Alright. I’ll tell you what I know. But don’t be disappointed when you learn that it isn’t really news to anyone, including you.”

“Whatever information you can give, I’ll happily use it the best I can to help him.”

“Whatever. Fuckin’ sap... You two are perfect for each other.”

This time, it was Claude who narrowed his eyes. “Felix-”

“Alright, alright,” the swordsman groaned. “Look. Everyone knew the Tragedy fucked with the boar’s head pretty bad. My father would tell me how he’d wake up in a cold sweat every night, screaming until he nearly destroyed his voice before going completely silent the next day, then the cycle would repeat itself. Eventually, everyone figured he was old enough to hold his own, and so my father and I returned to our territory. The next time I saw him was when I truly realized he was no longer the human he now pretends to be. It was about a year before we started studying at the Officer’s Academy. Dimitri was given his own battalion during a battle to suppress some rebellion in the Kingdom.”

Felix’s expression suddenly shifted into a look of disgust and rage. “I was with him that day, fighting alongside my father. He was ruthless to put it lightly. In fact, it looked like he was taking great pleasure slaughtering those people like they were nothing but livestock. He was covered in blood. At first I thought he was hurt, and asked if he needed a healer, but when he turned to me...” A shudder visibly went down the swordsman’s spine, and, for the first in a long time, Claude bore witness to the fear behind Felix’s eyes. “He wore a smile like it was his fucking birthday or something, telling me he was ‘more than alright’. He just...wasn’t Dimitri anymore. My childhood friend had died that day, and what replaced him was nothing more than some fucked up monster pretending to be a man and using his face to hide his true, beastly self. I haven’t trusted that fucking thing in the cathedral ever since.”

Claude took note of everything as he listened to Felix’s story. The way his body stood firm like a plank, yet shivered every so often at the same time, as he explained what he witnessed at that rebellion. The way his eyes drooped as they were suddenly filled with intense fear at the memory of seeing Dimitri, stained from head-to-toe in the blood of his own citizens, smiling like a mad man at him. A look he was all too familiar with.

Felix was clearly distraught with what had become of the prince, a feeling that was mutual between them, but he wasn’t about to leave without giving the man some hope. Even if it was only a little.

“He’s still in there, you know.” Not at all to his surprise, Claude received a scoff from the man. “No, I’m being serious. I’ve seen it ever since we started getting closer five years ago... I’ll admit, I only tried to create a connection in hopes of saving him from the events at Gronder, but I learned much more than I could have ever imagined. Dimitri is still the friend you remember him as.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I don’t remember my friend being a bloodthirsty killer.”

“...Maybe not, but you remember him still being a considerate person, right? Because from what he told me, he still wants to make changes in this world. Good ones, of course,” Claude said to him. “He wants to help the people of Duscur, and even offered me help in building relations with Almyra to avoid further conflict. He’s still in there, Felix. Deep down beneath all those layers of blood and anger. We just...have to help him see it, too.”

“...How can you be sure it’ll work.”

“I can’t. But it’s better to try than to do nothing at all.”

Felix paused before letting out a sigh. “Alright. So, what’s the plan? What do you hope to do with this information?”

“Simple: I’m gonna talk to him.”

“...Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What? I’m being real here. There’s nothing I can do to change the past, so all I can do is try to talk to him. To get him to see that he’s worth more than just as a ‘monster’,” Claude explained, making air-quotes. “But I’ll need your help in keeping him alive if I can’t manage to convince him before we reach Gronder Field.”

Felix rolled his eyes as he let out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

“Great! Well, thank you. Seriously. I know that must’ve been hard telling me all of that...”

“Tch. Whatever. Just take care of the boar, alright?”

Claude, despite the swordsman’s tone, felt a smile reach his lips. He knew Felix would never admit it, but it was obvious he still cared for the prince. And that made two of them.

“Don’t worry. I plan to.”

“Now can I be left to train in peace?”

“Oh, right, by all means! Sorry to disturb ya.”

Felix gave no reply. Instead, he pushed past Claude, this time back towards the center of the training grounds to continue sharpening his blade. Meanwhile, Claude felt rather satisfied with the conversation, and made his way out of the training grounds to find Byleth to complete their strategy for the Great Bridge as well as what awaited them at Gronder Field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way longer only because I've been procrastinating and frustration at the fact my textbooks for school aren't coming until the day of classes :,)
> 
> I'm not ready for college, ya'll, I swear the professor's gonna yell at me and Imma have a breakdown in my own house stg. Not to mention they STILL haven't told me my schedule for statistics and I already have the book I-
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this update! No bloopers this go around. Was too busy trying to make an accurate characterization of Felix and his feelings about the rebellion and Dimitri to think of funnies. Whoops.


	39. Power of a von Aegir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude, Byleth, and Dimitri lead their respective armies towards the Great Bridge where some old friends await them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep mispelling Ladislava's name because for some reason I pronounce it as "la-di-slav-ia" which sounds like "lago-slav-ia" and I end up with "Lagoslava" or "Lagoslavia" and I hate myself for it.

The march to the Great Bridge was a lot less peaceful than Claude had hoped. There was too much bickering for his liking, and so he ended up zoning out to block the insistent fighting between Felix, the prince, and Rodrigue. Instead, he tried thinking about other things.

Dimitri had apparently been gifted his family heirloom, Areadbhar, by Rodrigue just before everyone headed out, and to see the senile man wield a weapon made of another’s corpse with such pride was unsettling to say the least. He couldn’t blame him, however. If Dimitri had known who his weapon truly was **—** at least, a Dimitri that is much more sane—he would likely never want to touch the thing again. Even just holding Failnaught now made Claude sick to his stomach. He had only accepted it as a sign he would take his grandfather’s place as the Duke of the Alliance.

Before they had taken over the monastery, Claude hadn’t actually touched the relic since the ceremony. Before that, he hadn’t touched it since defeating Nemesis. As powerful as it was, it was still the body of a Nabatean. One that likely could still feel their body being used against their will if the glowing stone in the center was any indication; the way it would dim and light up from time to time actually almost had Claude puke right then and there on more than one occasion.

But Dimitri, on the other hand, had been glad to have received his family’s relic. Likely, it was a way to connect with his father. How old was Dimitri then? Thirteen, fourteen? Meaning it had been about nine long years since he was last able to look up at his father, see him smiling down at him, getting to hold him... Claude had been raised without these signs of affection. He knew his parents loved him, but they showed their love in a much different way than most parents would. But he also knew getting that experience meant the world to a lot of people, Dimitri included.

Still, he didn’t like seeing that relic glowing so eerily beside him. Could the person inside feel Dimitri’s wrath? Did they hate him and his family? Did they want revenge against the Blaiddyds just as badly as Dimitri wanted revenge against the Empire? Did _Claude’s_ relic want revenge on him and _his_ family?

_Gah, stop being so paranoid, Khalid!_

He needed a way to distract himself again. Claude tried rethinking his battle strategy, going over it silently in his head, when their units suddenly stopped.

Returning to the world from his bubble, Claude looked up to see they had successfully arrived at the bridge. He turned to Byleth, who in turn nodded in silent understanding. The two turned together to the rest of their troops.

“Alright, everyone. The battle ahead is gonna be a fierce one,” he announced. “Our scouts say the bridge is heavily garden by none other than Ladislava, one of the Empire’s greatest generals. So stay on your guard and follow the plan.”

Everyone let out a fierce, “Yes, sir!” in response. Good. They had been training for a whole month now. It was time to attack.

“In that case: let’s move forward!”

Everyone began marching again, this time in their respective battalions. Claude’s and Byleth’s troops were stationed at the front along with Dimitri’s and Lorenz’s. Claude anticipated Acheron’s intervention, and made sure Lorenz stood his guard by the rear-end of the frontlines to intercept them. Meanwhile, Dimitri’s forces would attack the reinforcements coming from the central fortress on the bridge. Byleth’s troops would go ahead with a few of the others to take on Ladislava.

Claude would be left alone to face Ferdinand on the southwestern end. A poor decision under any other circumstance, but Claude’s motive was not to fight the Adrestian general.

Once they managed to invade the bridge, Ladislava was quick to have her troops take on the defense. Just as planned, each segment of the frontlines followed their orders and were quick to take position. Claude, meanwhile, took his battalion and moved towards the southeastern end of the bridge.

He took his soldiers, consisting of wyvern riders and archers, and crossed the bridges that connected the southern fort to the rest of the bridge. Of course, they were intercepted by two opposing battalions of pegasus knights, making them outnumbered.

“My liege,” one of the soldiers from behind cried, “what should we do?”

Claude took a moment to think, mapping out a plan that would guarantee his men would live, but also give him a chance to confront Ferdinand alone.

“I’ll barge through whatever opening I can find to take on their commander,” he told the soldier. “The rest of you: archers to the rear and riders charge forward! Go into defensive formation! Shoot down as much of them as you can!”

“Yes, sir!”

With a loud cry, Claude’s soldiers began to move into formation to take on the hordes of pegasi launching themselves at them. Meanwhile, the commander himself made a dive through the charging battalion to reach Ferdinand just on the other side.

When white feathers, steel lances, and red armor left his vision, the only thing left that Claude could see was the general himself.

Sitting upon a beige steed that was dressed from head-to-hoof in brilliant red and silver armor, bearing a heavy lance that shone brightly in the sun’s beaming light, was Ferdinand von Aegir. A face he had not seen in five long years. Claude approached the other slowly, cautiously, with a determined grin on his face.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it Ferdinand?”

“Indeed. It is good to see you, Claude. Though I wish it would be under better circumstances,” the man replied.

“Heh. Agreed. But you know it doesn’t have to be this way, right?”

Ferdinand shook his head. “Whatever crazy scheme you’re planning, I want nothing to do with it. After this battle, I will be known far and wide as the legendary Ferdinand of Adrestia!”

Claude’s grin fell into a frown. “No, Ferdinand, you don’t understand. You’re fighting for the wrong side!” the brunette cried.

“Nonsense. The Empire is my home, and so I will remain loyal to it as I always have been. Now, have at thee!”

Without even waiting for Claude to answer, Ferdinand charged ahead on his mount towards the duke. Claude, in a panic, rushed his wyvern up into the air to avoid the blow. He had managed to nearly dodge the range of the general’s shining lance, and took to hovering just slightly over the other man.

“Bullshit!” Claude screamed. “You know just as much as I do that you never supported this way. You only joined Edelgard’s side because of Hubert.”

Ferdinand scoffed as he looked up at Claude. “Don’t be foolish. As the Jewel of the Empire, it is my duty to stand by Her Majesty. She has good reason to have started this war, and I will see to it that we win!”

“Oh, really? What’s her reason then?”

“I- ...Um...”

Claude pulled back from rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I-It doesn’t matter! Now stop being a coward and face me, Claude!”

Ferdinand again tried to attack the other, but Claude pulled the reins on Gila. The wyvern let out a shriek as she was surprised by the sudden command. She followed it nonetheless, however. The most damage Ferdinand managed to accomplish was a simple scratch on Gila’s hind claw.

Claude insisted, “I’m not being a coward! I’m trying to talk to you! I’m telling you, Edelgard isn’t what she seems! She’s been keeping secrets from you and the rest of Fodlan for years now!”

“Stop lying!”

“I’m not!” he replied. “Edelgard is working with a secret group of people who have done horrible things. They want to destroy Fodlan from the inside, and they’re starting by getting all of us to turn on each other. Don’t you think it was a little fishy that Edelgard would go missing for days at a time back at the Academy? Or that she always only took Hubert with her whenever she disappeared, even though _both_ of you were meant to be her advisors?”

“I... Well, that’s-... Her and Hubert-”

“Ferdinand, listen...”

Claude, noticing the hesitancy in the general’s expression grow, settled Gila down back to the stone pavement of the bridge. His eyes remained forever trained on Ferdinand, less he acted too carelessly and got himself killed.

In the short distance, there were shouts and screams of falling soldiers and ferocious battle cries growing closer and closer to their end. Byleth and Dimitri’s troops were no doubt advancing on Ladislava. He needed to end this conversation quickly before they joined him here and ruined everything.

With a sigh, Claude said to Ferdinand, “I want this war to be over, but I don’t want to kill Edelgard if I can help it. I want them to join us—I want you to join us—so we can defeat the Agarthans together. I know that’s Edelgard’s plan. She wants them gone, but so do we. If we work together, we can defeat them.”

Ferdinand stood silent for a beat before giving his rebuttal, “They won’t be easily convinced. Especially Edelgard.”

“Well, with you on our side, it’d be a lot easier. Don’t you think?” Claude suggested. “Maybe you can even convince Hubert, and he can convince Edelgard in return. Or, vice versa. Either way: please, Ferdinand, we need you.”

There was a short moment of silence between them, the sound of soldiers clashing on the battlefield not too far off indicating that time was short. A decision needed to be made, and it needed to be made now.

From where Claude stood, he could see Ferdinand take in a sharp breath before releasing it slowly. Then, with a look that screamed certainty, the general gave his reply.

“Very well. I shall join your side.”

Claude gave a smile at his words. “Good. Now, let’s finish this fight.”

“Agreed.”

Together, Ferdinand and Claude traveled through the wooden bridges back to the center platform of the bridge right by Ladislava’s position. To their left, bodies of fallen soldiers and demonic beasts lay still, and the rest of the army was quickly catching up. A few surprised eyes looked their way, especially from Byleth, but with a thumbs up from Claude the message was spread. Ferdinand was joining the fray.

Byleth shouted back to his soldiers, who in turn returned their attention to the enemy. Everyone else slowly started closing in on the general, including Claude and Ferdinand.

When they reached her position, the ex-Adrestian commander shouted to the woman, “Ladislava, stand down and surrender at once!”

The woman looked in mixed surprise and anger at Ferdinand. “Von Aegir! What do you think you’re doing?” she screamed. “You’re joining the enemy?”

“There will be time to explain later. But for now, I beg of you, lay down your weapon!”

Ladislava shook her head. “Never! I will die on the bridge in the name of the Empire, but not before I kill your first, traitor!”

“She’s not gonna listen,” Claude noted. “We’ve got no other choice.”

Ferdinand sighed in agreement. “So it seems...”

The other nodded, and turned to the professor who was only minutes away from their position. He waved his arm in the air to signal to him, and motioned for them to attack the general all as one unit. Byleth signaled back in reply before turning to his troops and charging forward, Dimitri’s own battalion just behind him.

Together, the four of them faced off against the powerful general.

Ferdinand was the first to attack, launching himself with his lance striking forward to pierce the woman’s armor. However, Ladislava dodged, pulling her wyvern away from the blow to avoid the attack. Then came Byleth, who used the Sword of the Creator to slash at her from afar. Though she seemed to be struggling now, the general still dodged the attempt with ease. A tactic Claude has been using earlier against Ferdinand.

_It’s no use. She’s on a flying mount. They’ll never reach her from the ground..._

Taking Gila’s reins and pushing her forward, Claude charged at Ladislava with a loud battle cry. He pulled back on his bow, knocking it, and released within seconds. His arrow flew through the air, and eventually pierced the shoulder of Ladislava’s mount.

The wyvern let out a pained howl, but kept itself flying. As much as he hated to do this, Claude felt no other choice.

Knocking his bow back again and releasing the arrow, Claude began to shoot the beast down in order to ground the general. Arrow after arrow, the wyvern was dealing heavy damage. If they wanted to keep it alive, a healer would need to be summoned, and fast. But now was not the time to focus on saving the creature. First, he had to take Ladislava out.

Eventually, with enough arrows pierced by the power of Failnaught’s strength, the wyvern let out one final cry before quickly giving up and falling to the ground, taking the general with it.

The two crashed onto the stone of the bridge with Claude following to catch and capture them, his own mount landing gracefully before he jumped off the saddle.

The wyvern and general were now on the ground in a messy heap, but it was not enough for Claude to approach too casually. He had an arrow knocked just in case as he slowly walked up to the general.

“Give it up,” he told her. “You’re outnumbered.”

A soft chuckle came from the woman.

“Maybe. But you, von Riegan...are outmatched!”

There was a glint of metal within the heap, and Claude’s heart jumped into his throat as everything moved far too quickly. Ladislava jumped up from the ground, kicking Failnaught from the duke’s grasp, before throwing her axe down onto him with a crazed look in her eyes. Her movements were far too sudden for Cladue to deflect the attack, especially with no weapon to make the counter, and so the duke saw this as his end...

That is... Until someone unexpected had jumped into the fight.

The sound of steel grinding against steel filled the air, followed by a loud grunt before Ladislava’s axe was thrown across the field and she let out a scream. Then, throwing down their own axe, Claude’s savior struck the general on her shoulder, just barely missing her artery, paralyzing her and keeping her from making any counter attacks.

Claude looked up to see a very, _very_ tall person covered in the thickest armor he had seen and short, white hair pulled into a small bun with a clean fade just underneath it. When the person turned around, he was faced with a, well, face full of scars as well as a pair of soft, green eyes staring down at him.

“Are you alright?” came their voice, and to that Claude could only smile as he gave his reply.

“Yeah, all thanks to you, big guy,” he said. “Glad to have you back...Dedue.”

* * *

Once the dust settled, Ladislava was taken into their custody, her wyvern carefully guided to the stable hands and some healers, and Ferdinand had officially promised to the rest of the army his aid in the war—though he never revealed Claude’s plan to speak to Edelgard to end the war. But that was the only eventful part of the day.

“Dedue! Why... How are you here?” Dimitri asked. “You died. Five years ago...”

Dedue gave the prince a gentle smile. “I was saved by my brothers. Men of Duscur,” he explained.

“Those people you were with... They were of Duscur? And they saved you?”

Dedue nodded. “Yes. Not long after I was captured did they rescue me from my prison.”

“Those men... They wouldn’t happen to be the same ones we helped five years ago, were they?” Byleth asked.

Ashe, who had also spotted Dedue amongst the troops and came running, turned to the professor in surprise. “Wait, you help a group of people from Duscur? And didn’t tell anyone?”

“I feared they would be hunted down by those in Faerghus who still despised us. So I made the professor promise to keep it between us,” Dedue explained.

“Ah,” Claude said, “that explains why Teach ended up missing on a weekend he was supposed to complete seminars.”

“Either way, we’re glad to have you back, Dedue,” Byleth told the man.

“Yes! When His Highness told us what had happened...” Ashe fell silent, his gaze falling to the floor. Claude recognized that look. It was one he thought he’d never see in this timeline. At least, from here on out, he wouldn’t ever have to make such a face again.

“I apologize for worrying all of you. Especially you, Ashe,” Dedue replied. “I am glad to have returned to you. But there is something I must ask.”

“Well, big guy, you did just save my ass, after all. Ask away!” Claude told him.

The other man nodded before turning to Dimitri, his gleeful smile shifting into a stern, blank expression as he addressed the prince, “Your Highness. I asked that you fulfill your long-held desire, did I not? Allow me to once again act as your sword and shield. Please, let me witness your triumph. I want to behold the moment your wish is finally granted.”

“Dedue...” For the first time in five years, a joyful smile was brought to Dimitri’s face. “Of course. And in exchange, I ask that you swear something to me, here and now. Do not ever throw your life away again. Understood?”

“Your Highness... Understood.”

“...need to join you at all costs!”

“Huh?”

“What was that?”

Despite such a powerful reunion happening right before their eyes, everyone’s attention was quickly caught by the sound of a distressed, young girl. Their heads turned to see a maiden speaking to Rodrigue, who seemed stern and commanding.

Claude exchanged a look with Byleth, who returned his gaze and nodded in silent reply. The two of them, with Dimitri quietly walking in tow behind them, approached the girl and advisor.

“Hey, what seems to be the problem here?” Claude asked in his usual, cheery voice.

The two looked back at them, and the look in the girl’s eyes brought unease to Claude. The way they bulged open before narrowing and, then, quickly shifting into pleading orbs of sea green didn’t sit right with the man.

“Oh, Claude, Professor, Your Highness. It’s nothing, really,” Rodrigue insisted. “This young girl here was just asking if she could join our army. However, I told her this was no place for children. This is an army, not an orphanage.”

“Please, you don’t understand! My family is gone, and I have nowhere else to go. I can use magic and fight! I promise! I’ll cook, do laundry, anything!” the girl begged. “Just take me with you, please!”

Claude gave the girl a frown. “Sorry, little lady, but Rodrigue’s right. We’re in the middle of a war, and-”

“Let her stay.”

The gravelly voice of the prince took everyone by surprise. Including Claude. The duke turned to Dimitri with wide eyes and a skeptical frown.

“Um... What?”

Dimitri returned his gaze, completely unfazed by the other’s shock. “Let her do as she pleases. I care not if she wishes to throw away her own life. If that is her desire, then so be it.”

“Your Highness, with all due respect, this girl seems far too young to simply make such a decision,” Byleth said. “Why does she so desperately wish to join our ranks anyway?”

Without hesitation, the girl replied, “Simple. I want... I want revenge. I  _ must _ be the one to kill the man who murdered my big brother!”

“If that is the case, then leave her be,” Dimitri repeated. “If revenge is her wish then we shall grant it.”

Claude looked back at the girl, gazing at her from the corner of his eyes. From where he was standing, he could see the smile that grew on her face. It was...unsettling, disturbing, to say the least.

“Thank you...very much,” she replied.

“Well, if that’s all, then I suppose we should set up base here to prepare for our march at Gronder, yes?”

Byleth hummed in agreement to Rodrigue’s suggestion. “Yes. And after everything is set, we should all rest well. Today was a hard earned victory.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Teach,” Claude replied. “Alright, guys, let’s get started!”

Everyone disbanded from there, with a nearby soldier being summoned to guide the young girl to where she would be staying for the moment. Claude watched her as she left, his frown growing by the minute.

He then caught a glimpse of Byleth walking back towards their troops and jogged after him.

“Yo, Teach! I’ve got somethin’ I wanna talk to you about.”

The professor turned back to him curiously. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

“Yeah, in fact, there is.” Claude leaned closer to the man, hovering over towards his ear. “There’s something going on with that girl. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’ve got my suspicions about her.”

“...Are you sure you’re not just being paranoid?”

“Maybe. Point is, I’ll need your help keeping an eye on her for me.”

Byleth sighed. “If it will ease your mind, then very well. I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks, Teach. I... I really mean it,” the duke replied. “You’ve been behind me this entire time, and, honestly, I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough. If you hadn’t believed me when I first told you about...you know, I’m not sure what I’d have done.”

“I’m sure you would have figured something out. You are the ‘Master Tactician’ after all.”

Claude rolled his eyes at the nickname, earning a laugh from the professor. “Seriously, though,” Byleth added. “You’re welcome, Claude. I will always be here to support you.”

“Glad to hear it, Teach.”

“Now, if we’re done, I’d like some help with the rations.”

“Sure thing! Just let me go check in on Marianne and the wyvern real quick, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Great. Be back in a sec!”

With that, Claude dashed off to find the animal lover, but he still couldn’t stop thinking about that young girl. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. He couldn’t quite name it, but she just felt...off. As if she was more important than just some random village girl, and to hear just how quickly Dimitri simply accepted her into their ranks worried him.

He just hoped nothing bad came from the prince’s decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dima made an uh-oh and someone's about to pay for it. I wonder if any of you can guess who it is Fleche is gonna stab?
> 
> Also, Ferdie has joined the fray! *eyes the Bernadetta/Ferdinand and Hubert/Ferdinand tag coexisting with an evil grin* ya'll are in for a treat.


	40. Gronder Field: The Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has finally come for the three house lords to meet once again on Gronder Field, and Dimitri is prepared to take Edelgard's life no matter the cost. That is...until tragedy strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing inner dialogue for post timeskip Dimitri before his redemption is like channeling my inner edgy 12-year-old self, except I'm not 6 feet tall and I can't break someone's leg in half like it's a twig.
> 
> CW: violent and bloody imagery (I mean... It's feral Dimitri, cmon-)

The Great Bridge seemed to have turned from a dull, well-fortified base separating the Alliance from the Empire to a lively party room in the span of a single evening. The large army had set up base on the bridge to prepare to further invade Imperial territory. Particularly, Gronder Field, where just five years ago there was peace between the three countries. Now they had to face each in war.

This didn’t bother Dimitri. Whatever it took in order for him to finally have that woman killed by his own hands, he’d see to it that it’d be done. However, he wasn’t taking too kindly to just how loud the old Black Eagles students were getting in their celebration of Ferdinand’s betrayal to Edelgard.

Bernadetta was in tears, happy to see that he was okay. Caspar and Petra had given him a grand, warm welcome to the army. Lindhardt, on the other hand, had given a rather dull greeting, as if he could care less if they were enemies or allies, and, lastly, Dorothea and the ex-general got into a heated argument over the responsibilities of a noble, or something of that nature. Dimitri wasn’t too sure what direction the conversation had gone, as the noise and bustle of the “dining hall”—when, in reality, it was merely a long corridor where soldiers would train and store their weapons—slowly started to drift to the back of his mind while the voices of the dead called out to him.

They whispered his name, pleading with echoed cries for vengeance, and suddenly the corridor felt too small for the prince alone, nevermind with other people in the vicinity.

He wanted to hear their cries in peace. It was the least he could do, after all, having failed time and time again to retrieve that blasted woman’s head. He tried to tell them it would only be a matter of time, but their growing impatience was now clear to him.

 _Soon, at Gronder, her life will be yours. I will bring you her head, I swear it,_ he promised them.

Still, his promises could only keep them at bay for so long, and, instead of silencing themselves, the dead only clung tighter to his being and yelled louder into his ear.

 **_“Peace. Peace. Please, Dimitri!”_ ** they whimpered.

_Please, just a little longer..._

**_“Where is she? Where is she?”_ **

_Soon. I swear to you! Just give me-!_

“Uh... Dimitri? You doin’ alright there, pal?”

The prince jumped in alarm, startled by the voice of his fellow ex-house leader as well as his new surroundings.

Dimitri seemed to have left the corridor and wandered outside into the night, and Claude had followed him. It was dark, with only the full moon shining above them to light the way, and the chilling winds of the mountains were exchanged with warm, cool air. A sign that they were much closer to Enbarr than he had realized, and that summer was approaching faster than one would expect. In a way, it felt peaceful. However, Dimitri was known to fully accept such peace.

The prince stared at the duke’s smiling face, so easy and calm, and scoffed at him. “Leave,” he growled.

“Whoa. No need to get all hostile,” Claud replied, stretching his hands to the back of his head. “I’m just out here for some fresh air. That party back there is getting a little too lively, even for me.”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?” he demanded. He was, quite frankly, through with the other’s games.

Claude’s face immediately shifted. Expected, given the fact he had just been caught. The duke’s easy smile was exchanged for a light frown, and there was a glint of sympathy rather than mischief in his eyes.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You kind of just...got up and walked out.”

“Why is it any of your concern?” Dimitri asked. “It’s pointless to waste your time on a monster. You’re a fool for doing so...”

Claude shook his head. “You should already know how I feel about you, Mitya. It’s no use trying to push me away, ‘cause I’m not giving up. You’re too important to me.”

**_“Who does he think he is?”_ **

**_“Kill him. Crush his windpipe beneath your grasp!”_ **

**_“What a nuisance... Get rid of him.”_ **

Dimitri let out a growl. Whether it was directed towards the ghosts or Claude, not even he knew, but nonetheless did he approach Claude like an animal would its competition. He straightened his back to stand at his full height, making him tower over the smaller man, and he leaned in close enough for the shadows of the night to reflect the anger in his bright, blue eye.

With a snarl more fearsome than a wolf’s, he told Claude, “If you continue down this foolish path, you _will_ die. To throw your life away for a worthless creature... How absurd.”

Claude stared back in challenge, not evening seeming close to backing down just from the prince’s intimidation, and it only worked to frustrate Dimitri more. The duke stood quietly for a few beats before giving the other a confident grin.

“As long as you’re safe,” he said, “I could care less what happens to me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. What? Is it really that weird for me to worry about someone other than myself?”

Dimitri, without even meaning to, smirked down at the duke. “How unlike you,” he muttered, the words slipping past his lips before he could even think of taking them back. Claude visibly cringed at his remark.

“Ouch. Okay, _that_ hurt… Still, guess I’m not that immune to change, huh?”

The prince said nothing in return, but he did not make any move to step away from the older man, and the two fell into silence. The buzz of the party could be heard in the near distance, a beacon of distraction from the sheer intensity of the atmosphere around them, but neither one would move their gaze away from the other.

Then Claude did it again. Just as he had in the cathedral, the brunette moved closer to the prince and reached for his hand. His fingers immediately laced together with Dimitri’s, as if it were a blanket protecting him from the cold. A strange feeling burst from within the taller man, sudden urges unbefitting of a disgraceful beast flooding his mind. He wanted to hold Claude. To remove his gauntlet and lock their hands together to feel his warmth. To place his lips against his own. Something— _anything_ —just to have the other close to him.

Dimitri searched for the voices, waiting for them to whisper commands into his ear, just wanting a distraction from these emotions, but nothing came. If anything, their voices only seemed to fade away the longer he stared at the duke. His heart—which he had thought was long dead and frozen like ice, incapable of friendship or even love—hammered in his chest as his vision was filled to the brim with everything that made Claude...Claude.

The way his lips stretched into a smile, reflecting his hope and joy. A feeling Dimitri had never once considered would be associated with himself. The way Claude’s eyes that could rival glimmering emeralds shone so brightly in the night, drawing him in to what he could only guess was the feeling of safety, comfort, and home. Even just how his hair, loose from its tamed and braided appearance five long years ago, was tussled by the warm, shifting wind blowing around them.

This was something Dimitri had not felt in years. Not since their days at the academy, on that night of the ball when it was just him and Claude in the Goddess Tower. The man had looked just like this that very night: majestic, alluring, and nothing short of gorgeous. But rather than grow flustered just as he had done back then—back when he could remember what such a feeling was like—the prince, instead, felt his walls slowly give away.

He leaned into Claude’s touch, but made no move to invade the ever-existent space between them. He did not know if it was because of his nerves, or if he simply felt unworthy to even think of doing so. Either way, Dimitri kept his distance while still holding on to whatever part of Claude he could reach. His gaze had also fallen, for he began to fear the expression the other wore seeing him in such a state. Was he looking at him in pity? In concern? Maybe, just maybe, even hatred? He didn’t want to know, but he could not blame Claude for looking at him in any possible way.

For the moment, he was free from the pleas and cries of the dead, and with each passing minute did he want to hold on to this moment just a little longer.

“Khalid,” he whispered. His voice had somehow cracked, but the blond refused to allow himself to cry here. He did not deserve it. Not in this man’s presence. “Khalid... I-I...”

Dimitri felt the other tighten his grip. “Shh,” he said softly to the prince. “It’s okay... It’s gonna be alright. Take your time, Dima...”

“Khalid...”

“I’m right here, big guy. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Do you swear?”

“On my life,” the duke replied. “Now come on. It’s late, and we need all the rest we can get if we’re gonna take on the Empire in a few weeks.”

“...Right...”

Dimitri allowed himself to be led by Claude through the halls of the Great Bridge. Everyone else seemed to still be at the celebration, honoring their victory earlier that day, leaving just the two of them at the makeshift quarters set up by the Knights with Byleth’s help. Claude laid out a few cots for them, spreading them just far apart from one another to provide some space between their bodies once they laid down to rest.

The duke was the first to make himself comfy, with the prince slowly following behind. Claude smiled up at Dimitri from his spot just across the floor.

“I know it’s gonna be hard, but try to get at least a little bit of shut-eye, yeah?”

“...I suppose. I can at least try.” The brunette’s eyes glowed joyfully at the response.

“Good.” Claude reached out to the prince again, intertwining their fingers once more. Their hands rested in the middle of the space between their cots. A distance no doubt determined by the duke to allow Dimitri some comfort in this situation. “G’night, Dima.”

“Goodnight...Claude...”

And like that, the duke’s eyes gazed over Dimitri’s form one last time before closing, hiding the brilliant orbs of green from the world.

While Claude was able to sleep in naive peace, Dimitri could not say the same. However, it was neither the voices nor the knowledge of what waited for him on the other side of the darkness that kept him awake. No. Rather, it was something he couldn’t quite identify yet. A strange feeling in his core distracted his body and mind from sleep. He felt he couldn’t fight it, even if he tried, and so his eye remained opened, content to simply watching Claude’s sleeping form as his body rose and fell with every breath he took.

Yes. Dimitri was content like this. That was all he knew. And though he felt a monster like himself could never be allowed this kind of peace, this feeling of short-lived happiness, he accepted it gratefully.

And the voices weren’t there to disagree.

* * *

Weeks go by since they first set up base on the bridge, and the time had finally come to march towards Gronder Field.

Gronder...

Dimitri remembered Claude saying something about meeting his end on that field. Still, it did not matter. All he had to do was claim that woman’s head, and they could finally rest. No longer would they cling to him desperately with ghostly hands, burnt with the skin falling from their bones, grabbing and scratching at him in the night when the world went quiet and he was left alone to his inner demons.

Their march along the field was just as it had been five years ago. At least from Dimitri’s perspective. The only difference was that it was three separate armies unifying as one against a common foe.

And, not at all to his surprise, did the prince find said enemy already stationed across the field with Edelgard standing in clear sight at the very front of her army. The number of troops and demonic beasts was massive, but not nearly as much as their own numbers. Dimitri eyed Claude, noticing the distraught look and hints of surprise on his face. He wasn’t expecting this at all from the looks of things. Perhaps the Agarthans had known their numbers had grown, and thus added to Edelgard’s supply of soldiers?

Either way, he would slaughter anyone who got between him and his prize.

The two armies stood across from one another. One under the Imperial banner, and the other under the Crest of Flames. It was the former that had broken the tension, sending waves of flames into the sky and striking their soldiers down. From there, everything devolved into chaos.

With fire raging around them, the voices of the dead crying in his ears, and the pained groans and screams of soldiers who had just now met their end echoing into the now smoke-filled air, Dimitri led the charge with a single shout...

“Kill every last one of them!”

The soldiers behind him shouted in determination and charged ahead with the prince. Dimitri brandished Areadbhar, and immediately began to run at the enemy. Among the cries of soldiers clashing on the battlefield, screaming in pain and adrenaline-fueled rage, was Claude’s voice calling out to the prince, but his pleas fell upon deaf ears. All Dimitri could think of was facing Edelgard, ripping her head from her shoulders with his bare hands, cutting her throat open until her blood soaked the dirt beneath their boots.

He imagined with terrifying glee every possible way he could end the woman’s life as he tore through soldier after soldier, bashing their skulls into the ground, snapped their spines, slicing them open and leaving their guts to spill in a contorted mess on the floor as he continued to rush past them as they choked on their own blood. They would _not_ get in his way. Not now that he had the greatest chance to take Edelgard’s life and finally, _finally_ , avenge the lost souls that have clung to his mind for nine long years.

Eventually, he reaches her.

Dimitri is smothered from top to bottom in the blood of Imperial soldiers, some of which may even be his own given his reckless attacks, and according to the wyvern screeching and quick steps beating against the grass, the professor and Claude were not too far behind. But that wasn’t what the prince was concerned about.

The prince glared at the emperor before him, his grip on his relic tightening as she stared him down. Had the lance not wielded the power of his ancestors as well, it would have surely snapped in half just as any other weapon would. The Crest Stone within glowed a powerful red, illuminating part of Dimitri’s face as he pointed it threateningly at his step-sister.

“Stab your chest, break your neck, smash your head... I will allow you to choose your own death.”

The emperor, in turn, frowned before brushing his words off with a scoff. “I’m not interested in methods of dying. All that matters is when death takes place, not how. And I have no intention of dying today.”

“I’m sure all of the people you’ve slaughtered so far thought the same!”

“Not this again,” the woman sighed.

“Dimitri!”

“Your Highness!”

The prince, for just a moment, turned to Byleth and Claude, both of whom were catching up quickly. However, this moment of weakness turned out to be his downfall. In the next minute, he heard Edelgard let out a loud battlecry, and turned back just in time to dodge the raw strength of her own relic, Aymr.

The axe smashed onto the ground with a loud _‘CRACKLE!’_ , splitting open the earth beneath them and sending dirt and grass flying. When she realized she had missed, Edelgard picked up her weapon again and lifted it high above her head to deal another blow. Dimitri gripped Areadbhar, preparing to face off against the emperor properly.

However, Edelgard let out a sharp cry as an arrow flew straight into her shoulder with a _‘whoosh!’_. Her head turned to Claude, who was mounted on his wyvern and hovering just above the battle. The brunette immediately began to knock another arrow into Failnaught as he shouted to Dimitri, “Teach, now!”

Now it was the professor’s turn.

Byleth took the Sword of the Creator, shifting it into its whip form, and threw the sword directly at the emperor. Edelgard was not able to dodge the blow in time, and the blade had cut through the front of her armor. She let out a strangled gasp as she fell onto her knees, clutching the large gash that decorated her torso and ran from just beneath her arm down to the edge of her waist. Aymr had fallen from her grasp, laying just a little ways off from where Edelgard was attempting to stop the blood.

This was it. They had her cornered.

The three leaders moved closer to the fallen emperor, Dimitri the most gleeful among them.

“The time has come, Edelgard,” he growled. “Give up. Resisting is pointless, now. Death is now your only salvation.”

Edelgard looked up at him, her eyes narrowed with anger and teeth clenched in agony. “I...will not….die—ugh!—h-here... Especially to the l-likes of yo-ou...”

“Hold on just a minute,” Claude said, immediately intervening. “Maybe we should have a little talk before we go overthrowing any emperors now.”

Dimitri’s eye shot up almost instantly, his quick movements nearly making it seem as if his neck had just been snapped upwards by some unseen force, before it narrowed into a glaring slit.

“What?” the prince hissed. “This woman has killed _hundreds_ of _thousands_ of people, and you want to _talk_ with her?”

Claude looked back at the prince with disapproval, his arms crossing over his chest almost authoritatively from atop his wyvern. “Look, I know this war is bigger than just the three of us. Maybe if we team up-”

“ _What_ !? You want to _team up_ ? Do you have any _fucking_ idea-”

“Dimitri, Your Highness, calm down...”

“This is absurd! I _will_ have Edelgard’s head on a pike, even if I have to kill _both_ of you to achieve it!”

As expected, a fight had broken out between the three, leaving Edelgard to watch helplessly on the ground as she felt her consciousness slowly slip away. If she lost any more blood, she was going to pass out, and the enemy would win.

Suddenly, Edelgard felt gloved hands touch her shoulders and gently lift her to her feet. The woman turned to see who it was, expecting to see a Knight of Seiros rounding her up for capture, only to find to her grateful surprise Hubert standing with an amused smile gracing his lips. It seemed the sudden bickering between Dimitri, Claude, and Byleth was enough of a distraction for him to warp to their location from where she stationed him closer to the central hill.

“Hu...bert...”

“Worry not, Lady Edelgard. We will have you safe once more in just a mere moment.”

Then, with a snap of the mage’s fingers, the two of them disappeared with a flash of purple light. The glow, however, caught the attention of the professor, who was attempting his best to get the duke and prince to stop their squabbling. His eyes were blown wide when she saw that Edelgard, as well as Aymr, were now missing.

“Um... There’s some bad news...”

“Not now, Teach-”

“Edelgard escaped.”

**_“WHAT!?”_ **

Dimitri and Claude, both having been distracted by the other, looked to see that Edelgard had, indeed, managed to escape. The latter of the two was not too concerned. In fact, he saw it as a good thing that Edelgard managed to get away. That left him more time to finalize his plan on convincing her to their side.

The former however...

“Gah! Goddess damn it all!” Dimitri screamed. The prince took a deep breath, the voices growing louder and louder as realization sunk in. He had let her escape. Their only salvation was now gone, and it was all his fault.

“I’ll keep pursuing,” the prince announced. “The rest of you, keep fighting!”

“Dimitri, don’t, that’s suicide!” Claude pleaded. “The Imperial army is closing in! We have to retreat now!”

“I’ll kill all of them! No matter how many hundreds or thousands of them there are!”

Dimitri, blinded by his rage, could not see nor hear the set of footsteps quickly closing in on them. Nor did he notice the sound of steel cutting through flesh until it had been too late...

Screams of terror from Dimitri’s allies filled his ears as the prince felt himself fall to the ground, his arms instinctively reaching to wrap themselves around his torso as warm blood gushed down his back. He turned his head to see who had dared to attack him...only to find the familiar face of the young girl from the bridge.

“Y-You... You...a-are...”

The girl, bearing a crazed smile and brandishing an iron sword, stared down wickedly at Dimitri.

“Have I caught you off your guard, _Your Highness_ ?” she asked, her tone nothing short of mocking as she addressed him by his title. “Aww, does it hurt? I bet it hurts _real_ bad, doesn’t it? But it’s nothing compared to what my brother felt!”

_Her...brother...?_

“You will never be forgiven, you know. I will _never_ forgive you!”

“You... You must be...”

_Ah. That’s right. Captain Randolph’s sister..._

_I suppose...this is how I meet my end..._

“..imitri...!”

_What a fitting punishment...for a monster like me..._

“You filthy beast! It’s time to _die_!”

“ _No!_ ”

Dimitri was prepared to meet his end, to feel the cool touch of the blade pierce his skin and put an end to his misery.

However, that moment of bliss, of freedom from this mortal realm, never came.

Instead, he bore witness as the beauty he held just a few nights before jumped right into the line of fire, and he watched as the sword cut clean through the man’s body as if he were merely a cut of cloth torn apart by a steel knife. The prince could not move, nor make a sound, as he watched blood trickle down the blade before dripping off onto the dirt below and soak through the duke's clothes.

Claude had jumped right in front of him and took the blow.

And Dimitri had let it happen...

“G-Gah!...” Claude let out a fierce cough as he stood with the sword embedded deep in his abdomen, blood pouring through his mouth with every puff of air he took. “Teach... N-Now!”

“Right!”

Byleth, taking his blade, surged forward and slashed at Fleche, cutting her down instantly. Her grip on the sword’s hilt was knocked away as she fell onto the ground, the Sword of the Creator having pierced her right through the chest before retracting back to its original form. The girl let out a gasp as she collapsed.

“B-Brother...,” she pleaded, her hand reaching out to the gray sky above them. “Please... Help...me...”

Then, with one final breath, Fleche had met the same fate as her brother.

With the girl out of the way, Byleth placed his sword back on his hip before turning to Claude and Dimitri. He couldn’t help the frown that came to him as he saw the tall, broken man hold the dying duke in his arms.

Dimitri had his arms wrapped around Claude as if his life depended on it. The man was still breathing, though there was no telling how much longer he had left to live. Blood refused to stop flowing from where Fleche had struck him and it was clear she had gone in for the kill. This threw the prince into a fit of panic, worry, and anger.

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you...?”

Claude let out a small chuckle. “Hey, don’t worry about—gah! _shit_...!—it... Heh. Honestly not the...w-worst thing that’s happened to me...”

“But why, Claude!? Why would you throw away your life like this!?” Dimitri shouted, his voice collapsing as he was on the verge of tears. “This punishment... It was mine to bear! This is all my fault...”

“No, Dima, no, no. This... This isn’t your fault... I chose to do this...”

“But why!? For what purpose?”

Claude, despite the blood and the pain of it all, smiled at the prince. “Because... I’ve seen you die in one life already, Dima. I... I don’t wanna see it— _ shhhhh...! _ —happen e-ever...ever again... If I have to...to give up my life for yours, then I’d jump in front of a hundred swords...just to see you safe... Besides, I’ve had a good run...”

“No... No, no, don’t talk like that! Please, Claude, you...you can’t die!” Dimitri pleaded. “Father, Step-mother, Glenn... They all died and left me behind. Please, Claude, I cannot have you join the ghosts who shadow my every move!”

“Heh. You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me leavin’ ya, your Princeliness...” The duke reached up, cupping the side of Dimitri’s face with his hand and gently caressing his skin just beneath his cheek. “Can’t— _ ngh! _ —can’t get...rid of me that easily... Hehehe...”

Then, just like that, Claude’s grip fell limp, and Dimitri was frozen in place. He stared as Claude’s eyes slowly slid shut, perhaps to never open again. Immediately, his heart sank into his stomach, and fear gripped him like a cobra squeezing its prey.

“Claude... Claude, please, wake up,” he begged. “Claude...? Claude! Damn you, open your eyes! Don’t die!”

“Dimitri!” the prince heard the professor call. “Calm down, please! Panicking will get us nowhere.”

Dimitri nearly snapped at the professor, but the expression Byleth gave the man was enough to keep him silent. The older of the two let out a sigh as Dimitri returned his attention to the collapsed Claude in his arms.

“I’ll go summon a healer. Come, we should bring him back to the bridge so he can recover.”

“Professor, tell me, will he make it?”

“...I don’t know,” the man replied truthfully. “But the quicker we move, the better his chances. Now let’s go.”

Dimitri hesitates as he studies the duke’s face, his eye scanning for any sign of life. He could see the slightest lift of Claude’s chest as his breathing was slowing down, and he could hear the small gasps of breath he was taking.

“...You’re right. Let us hurry.”

Byleth gave a nod to the prince, helping him to his feet as the two of them then rushed across Gronder Field back towards the rest of their troops. The entire time, Dimitri’s grip on Claude’s unconscious body was stronger than any armor, and he would refuse to look away from the man’s face. The short, rigid breaths escaping him brought comfort to the prince. Claude was going to live. He would see it through. If not...

Then Dimitri would have no hope left in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of ya'll that guessed Claude would be Fleche's victim I gotta know: are ya'll just reading my mind at this point or am I just THAT obvious? Lol.
> 
> Anyway, yeah. Claude gets stabbed by angry child and Dimitri's got more trauma to deal with now. And Rodrigue gets to live!!! (I call utter bullshit that this man dies in-game just like that. that ain't right,,,,) Also, I did have some bloopers planned for this chapter, but decided against it because reasons. That and by the time I was finished with all of this I was way too tired to even play Animal Crossing, let alone think of funnies.
> 
> Well I hope you guys enjoyed this update. Up next: some more angst that'll make anyone cry like a big ol baby. So stay tuned!


	41. Change of Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of Claude's near-death experience, Dimitri is left to wonder just what he should be fighting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mention of PTSD and comas.

They managed to get Claude back to the bridge safely, and a healer was immediately summoned. Dimitri felt utterly helpless as he watched the duke be carried away to the private quarters of the fort for the priestess to tend to him in peace, ignoring the way the soldiers were staring in shock as he helped carry him. At one point, Mercedes had approached them. She promised to be by Claude’s side to ease the prince’s worries, to which Dimitri thanked her for.

Hours had gone by since then. It was now well past midnight, Dimitri believed. It was hard to tell. The dark clouds that quickly blanketed the sky upon their return made it difficult to tell just how late it had gotten, and the darkness had only grown when rain began to fall. Almost as if the Goddess herself was mourning the loss as well.

Though many would find the sound of falling rain peaceful, almost soothing in fact, it did nothing to quell the burning anger Dimitri felt. However, unlike before, he could not identify _who_ he was angry with. Perhaps at Edelgard, for the war that plagued them both would never have occurred with her gone? Perhaps at that young girl for being the one to deal the deadly blow? Perhaps at Claude? He was a fool to jump in the way like that, and if he were to die then surely it’d be his own fault.

Then Dimitri started thinking that, perhaps, it was his fault. It always had been. Whenever someone close to him left this mortal realm, it was always to save _him_ . To protect _him_. First his family, as well as Glenn, were burned until there was nothing left but smoked flesh and bones, then Dedue had sacrificed his life to save Dimitri from execution by his father’s most trusted medic and advisor, and now Claude was fighting for his life trying to save the prince from his own sins.

This needed to end, and it needed to be done now. Before anyone else had to die.

The storm was only getting worse, but a little rain was nothing to the man. Dimitri took his relic and stormed out into the unstable weather, but just as he passed the stables he heard a voice call to him.

“Where are you going?”

“It doesn’t concern you,” he growled.

Byleth frowned at him. “I think it very much does.”

“Get out of my way. Now.”

“...You were planning to sneak out to Enbarr, weren’t you?”

“...”

The professor sighed. He walked closer to Dimitri, stepping around to put himself between the prince and the only way off the bridge.

“Claude wouldn’t want you to do something as reckless as go off into enemy territory alone,” he told him. “And this certainly won’t appease the dead, Dimitri.”

Then, something in Dimitri snapped.

With a snarl like that of an angered, starving bear, Dimitri hissed venomously at the professor, “ _Claude_ does not understand, and it seems _you_ do not either. Neither of you know what you’re talking about! Death is the end. No matter how much lingering regret a person has, after death, they are powerless. They cannot even wish for revenge, much less seek it out. Hatred, regret... Those burdens fall on the shoulders of those who are left behind. And so I must continue down this path!”

“It’s pointless, Dimitri,” Byleth attempted to explain. “You know just as much as I do that both of you have suffered more than you can bear. It’s time for you to let go.”

Dimitri scoffed at him. “It seems you’re _both_ fools. Neither you nor him have seen or heard the whispers of the dead, begging for freedom and for their bloodlust to be fulfilled! You will _never_ know their terror.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, quit the _fucking_ dramatics!”

Byleth’s voice had boomed in the rain, sounding louder than the thunder that raged through the sky. His expression was one of pure rage, a look Dimitri had never seen on the man before, as his brows furrowed enough for the crease between them to be almost impossible to ignore. His pupils had contracted, leaving the stark seagreen of his eyes to glow like a powerful beacon in the night, and his nostrils flared like a bull preparing to rush at whoever had the audacity to disturb its peace.

In short: he looked _fucking_ _pissed_.

“You go on and on and _fucking_ on about no one knowing a single bit about how you fucking feel. Well guess what? Ever wondered _why_ Claude let you hit him on the fucking head during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion?” the professor snarled. “Because in that moment all he could see was your _corpse_ , and the bodies of _everyone_ he had ever loved! I may not know jack shit about losing someone, but Claude sure as hell fucking does, and he’s the only fucking reason why you’re even _alive_ right now!”

Dimitri, in his shock, could only mutter quietly, “Professor...”

“Dimitri, you _and Claude_ have been through more than anyone. It’s time you start living for something _other_ than what the dead may or may not want. Because this path you are on, this path you seek so desperately, is gonna get you fucking killed.”

“But then...who...or what...should I live for?”

With his expression softening to that of a stern mother, Byleth told the prince, “Live for what you believe in.”

“What I...believe in...?”

Is that what Claude did? When he returned to the past, despite everything he had gone through, he was willing to live through the same misery and war that claimed the ones he loved just as the Tragedy had done to Dimitri. Did he truly suffer such a fate just to see his plan for a better Fodlan through? Then... What he told him at Gronder...

“Professor... May I confess something?” he asked.

Byleth replied, “Yes. Of course.”

“I... When Claude had fallen, he told me he had chosen to jump in the way. He had chosen death... All so that I, a murderous monster with my hands stained red, may live. Professor... Is it possible for a beast like me to do the same as him? To live by such principles...? As the sole survivor of that day... Do I truly have the right to live for myself and what I want?”

“You do,” the professor answered. “Regardless of what has happened, you have just as much of a right as anyone else to do what you believe is right.”

Dimitri fell into silence as he stared at Byleth. The man held such wisdom that it was hard to believe he was only a few years older than himself—though, technically, he supposed now it would be slightly younger given he did not seem to have aged these past five years—but the prince still took his words to heart.

A few short moments had passed as they stood quietly in the rain, blue eyes staring into ocean seagreen, before the professor gave Dimitri a gentle and coaxing smile.

“Hey,” he said to him, “if you’d like, Claude is stable enough for visitors now.”

“...Would it be alright for you to take me to him?” the prince asked.

Byleth gave a nod. “Of course. Follow me.”

The professor reaches out his hand to Dimitri, who stares hesitantly before accepting the gracious offer. Byleth guided Dimitri to the private quarters of the fortress. The two walked down a series of hallways—was the Great Bridge always this massive?—before finally stopping at a wooden door. Byleth released his hold of Dimitri to turn the knob and push the door open, revealing a mostly empty room inside.

There’s a bed, a desk and chair, and a single candle that’s already been half used with its flame flickering with the gentle breeze that entered the room as the door was opened. Laying on the bed that sat to the center right of the room was an unconscious Claude. From where he stood, Dimitri noticed the steady rise and fall of the man’s chest and internally sighed with relief. He was alive at least.

“I’ll be just outside if you need me,” the professor announced.

Dimitri gave a slow nod and a soft hum. Byleth stepped to the side to allow the prince entrance, and Dimitri walked into the room without pause. The door was closed behind him as he walked closer, his eye trained on Claude’s resting form. He grabbed the chair by the desk and placed it by the bed, facing towards the duke. Dimitri took a seat and quietly remained by Claude’s side.

At first, he could only stare at the man’s chest. From the door he looked much more stable, but at a closer distance it seemed it just barely moved. It didn’t help the prince’s worry as he looked down at where Claude had been stabbed. His clothing was removed to care for the wound, leaving his torso exposed, and wrapped around his middle were white bandage wrappings now stained crimson.

As Dimitri stares at the wound, all he can remember was that moment out in the field. How quickly things had gone south. How, in the blink of an eye, he nearly lost yet another person he held dear to his heart, and as the thought slowly began to consume him he called out to the voices of the dead. However, they were still as silent as the night, just as they had been since their return from Gronder. All he has left is prayer. Something he hadn’t done since he was a lad.

Still, Dimitri looks at Claude one more time, examining every curve of scar he can see, before holding his hands together and bowing his head.

_ Please, dear Goddess, see to it that Claude recovers quickly. I have lost so much, and you have done nothing to help the people of Fodlan. People still suffer, still die unjustly by the hands of others, and you ignore our prayers still... This is all I ask of you. Please, keep him safe. _

Dimitri knew his pleas would fall upon deaf ears, for the Goddess was no longer a part of this realm. She had not been for a long time, it seemed. Still, it gave the prince hope, and that was all that mattered now.

He lifted his head to look again at the duke’s unconscious body, and begins to speak.

“Khalid, my dearest friend... I know nothing can be done to reverse the pain I’ve caused, and there are no words to describe my deep regret for what I’ve done, but know that now I will live for what I believe in, just as you did,” he whispered to the other man. “I... I want to liberate my people. I know you want this war to end as quickly as possible, but they need my help. I do not know if I can continue to ignore their suffering any longer. I hope you will understand...”

As expected, Claude did not reply, but Dimitri felt he would approve of his decision to free Faerghus from Cornelia’s control. He could see it now: the man would be standing across from him with that easy smile of his, except this one would be genuine as his smile reached his eyes that would glow with joy and pride. He’d say something along the lines of “I believe in you, Dima” or some other inspirational message of a similar manner. Yes. Claude may not agree with the decision, but he would want Dimitri to help those in need. And right now, his people needed him.

Fully confident in his choice, Dimitri stood from the seat and gave Claude one last glance of hope before turning to leave the room. He opened the door, expecting the professor to be standing just where he was. But there was no sign of the ex-mercenary. This surprised the prince, who wanted to share the news with him, and so began the hunt for Byleth.

He searched through the numerous halls he was led through, opening whatever door wasn’t locked and peaking into every nook and cranny he knew the man could fit through, but came up empty handed. His path eventually led him out onto the bridge where he finally,  _ finally _ , found the professor. Except many of the others were there as well.

_ It must have been a last-minute meeting _ , Dimitri thought to himself. Ah, but how was he to approach them?

The prince felt an incredible distance grow between the group of friends and peers he once knew as he stood by the entrance to the fortress, and it terrified him. Could things truly return to normal? Likely not. But if he was going to make things right, he had to move forward instead of look back.

Dimitri inhaled deeply, allowing the breath to rest within him to calm his nerves, before releasing it and stepping out into the drizzling rain.

“If we split up the soldiers currently defending the monastery- Ah, Your Highness!” Gilbert exclaimed, his eyes widening with surprise. “Are you not resting? Surely your wounds are still healing.”

“Yes. You should return to bed, Dimitri,” Dedue said in agreement.

“I assure you all that I am fine,” the prince replied. “More importantly... There’s something I wish to discuss with you. If you will allow me.”

Felix, as usual, scoffed. “Get on with it then. We don’t have all day.”

Dimitri nodded to him, slightly irked by the man’s attitude, but it was nothing he wasn’t used to.

“I... I wish to apologize. To all of you. I have led you down a dark path with me, and have cost so much suffering along the way... I cannot tell you how sorry I am for my behavior. There is no apology I could offer that would be sufficient.”

Hilda shook her head. “I think you owe that apology more to Claude than anyone, but I guess this is a start.”

“Hilda...”

“No, Marianne, she’s right. Once Claude is awake, I will offer an apology to him as well.” After all, an apology doesn’t really count if someone isn’t awake to hear it. “...I know that no amount of regret can bring back the amount of lives we’ve lost. A little too well, honestly... It is like patching up a tear with a different material. Things can never be as they once were. The best I can hope for is to make things whole again. I wish to do the right thing from now on, to fight for what I believe in.”

“And what would that be?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri turned to the professor, his sense of confidence growing. He lifted his head with pride as he announced, “I intend to take back the Kingdom capital. I wish to save our people, those who I turned my back on for too long. That is the only way I can atone for my sins...”

“But taking on Cornelia would be suicide!” Ashe cried. “She’s armed to the teeth with Imperial soldiers in Fhirdiad. How will we manage it?”

“We will find a way. Once we reclaim the capital, it will give us an advantage in our war against the Empire,” Gilbert explained. Then, the general turned to the crown prince. “As one who has served the royal family for ages, know that your words bring me great joy. And pride.”

“I as well,” Rodrigue declared. “You have done good growing into the fine, young man you are now, Your Highness. But know that once we make for the Kingdom, the Emperor’s head will be out of your reach. Are you sure you will be alright with that?”

Dimitri nodded. “I still hold hatred in my heart for her and the ones responsible for the Tragedy... That, I will carry with me until death. But...my life is my own. I will no longer allow the voices of the dead to bind me. I will accomplish my aim, even if I must risk my life doing so.”

“Understood.” Byleth turned to the rest of their council. “Are there any objections?” he asked.

“None here,” Sylvain said with a smile.

“I’m worried about Lady Rhea,” Mercedes confessed, “but I’ll support you no matter what!”

“Claude’s gonna out of it at the moment, so it’s not like we’ve got much of a choice. Hell, count me in!”

“M-Me too!”

“Yeah!” Raphael shouted. “Let’s kick some Imperial butt!”

“Technically, Raphael, it’s the Dukedom-”

“Shut up, Lorenz. No one cares!”

“You may count me in as well, Your Highness.” Ingrid gave a soft bow to the prince. “We’re glad to have you back.”

“Tch... Speak for yourself.”

“Felix-”

“Guys, let’s calm down. We should be celebrating!”

“I’m with Annette,” Lysithea said. “But let’s not forget work hard to rescue the people of Faerghus!”

“Then it’s settled!” Byleth proclaimed, his voice booming over the mixing of shouts and arguments and grabbing their attention. “Everyone: use your time wisely. We’ll be heading back to the monastery in a week. After that, we’ll prepare to invade the Dukedom. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. You’re all dismissed!”

With the command given, the council spread out, continuing their bustling excitement over the news. As they dispersed, it was only Byleth and Dimitri left. The prince turned to the professor, expecting another lecture, but, to his surprise, he found a gloved hand clasped over his shoulder. He looked down at it before his eye moved back up to Byleth’s grinning face.

“You did well, Dimitri,” the teacher said to him, and Dimitri found himself returning a smile of his very own.

“Right. Thank you...Professor...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth in this chapter is basically just like a kid learning to curse for the first time and then gets super mad so he starts yelling out every profanity he can think of. Also, yeah, if you couldn't tell, Claude's gonna be out of commission for another chapter or two (again) but it's just until he wakes up.
> 
> Anyway, here's some bloopers that I thought was funny.
> 
> ____________________
> 
> "Well then get your shit together, get it all together and put it in a back pack, all your shit, so it's together."  
> "Um...Professor-"  
> "And if you gotta take it some where, take it somewhere, you know, take it to the shit store and sell it, or put it in the shit museum."  
> "What the fuck is a shit museum!?"
> 
> ____________________
> 
> "Please, dear Goddess, see to it that Claude recovers quickly. I have lost so much, and you have done nothing to help the people of Fodlan. People still suffer, still die unjustly by the hands of others, and you ignore our prayers still... This is all I ask of you. Please, keep him safe."  
> "Bitch I'm in Byleth's head, the fuck am I supposed to do?"  
> "Wait, what the-"
> 
> ____________________
> 
> As expected, Claude did not reply. I mean... He's unconscious. The fuck did you expect?  
> "Not helpful, Narrator."  
> Shut up, bitch boy-
> 
> ____________________
> 
> And that's all I've got. Now if you'll excuse me I've gotta clean my entire house as well as cook for my family before my 6PM class starts. Woohoo......
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this one. Sorry if it's a little crappy at some parts. I've been working on this for four days between classes so it's kinda meh in terms of quality I guess? I don't know.
> 
> I'll see you guys later. Peace out!


	42. Taking Back Fhirdiad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri and Byleth move ahead to retake control of the Kingdom capital, but Cornelia has a trick up her sleeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cornelia's character design looked really cool at first, and for a second I thought she'd just be another one of those milf villains until I saw her "angry" character icon and I swear I saw every conceivable, ugly monster in existence in that one image.
> 
> Like, imagine the ugliest Karens you can think of and just mash them all together. That's Cornelia when she's pissed. The Queen of Karens.

The trip to Fhirdiad was a crucial but exhausting one. Even traveling through the fastest routes did it take a few weeks to reach the northern forests and tundra that made up Faerghus territory. As they approached closer and closer to the capital, the army received news from a few scouts that the people were beginning to rebel at the news of their king’s return.

King... Dimitri wasn’t sure if he, after all that had happened, still deserved such a title. A king was benevolent, kind, wise, and many more things that Dimitri felt he could never live up to. A king was someone like his father. Someone like the professor. Someone like Claude. Literally _anyone_ would do a better job at leading the people than him.

But people were placing their faith in him, and he was done disappointing them.

As the army marched into the capital, Dimitri stopped in his tracks to gaze at the sight before him. They were still in the far entrance, surrounded by what were the slums of the city. A little further ways north was where the merchants and clerics lived as well as worked, and, in the far, far distance, he could see the brilliance of the palace towering over the entire place. There, Cornelia likely awaited.

“Your Highness, are you alright?”

Ah. He must’ve been dozing off again.

The prince turned to the voice, seeing the professor look up at him in worry. He gave the man a reassuring nod.

“Yes. It’s just... I suppose nostalgia got the better of me,” he admitted. “It has been a lifetime since I was last here. Five years ago, in fact. On the day before my execution, when Dedue helped me escape from prison. I killed soldiers from my homeland, stole weapons from their corpses, and made my escape, soaked in their blood. I’ve never looked back since that day. To think this is how I would return to the city of my birth, after all that has transpired...”

Byleth smiled at the prince. “I’m proud of you,” he told him. “More than you can imagine.”

To that, Dimitri shook his head, though he could not hide his own grin at the praise even if he tried.

“I do not deserve that. If not for you or Claude, I would still be lost...” The man glanced back at the city ahead of them, stood still and quiet for only a moment, and let out a sigh. “I am glad to have you at my side, Professor. Truly, I am grateful. Let us win this, and hope we make it out alive so we may celebrate our victory.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Dimitri.”

“In that case...”

Dimitri turned to the soldiers behind them, most waiting patiently for their next orders. With his head held high and his confidence growing, though only for the moment, Dimitri lifted Areadbhar to the heavens as he shouted to them, “For Faerghus!”

And in patriotic pride did the army shout back, “For Faerghus!”

The time was now. By the day’s end, Faerghus would be free from the Empire’s control.

* * *

Cornelia stood on a city bulwark just outside the palace, her eyes scanning over the endless fields of angry citizens attacking her soldiers as if she were merely watching wild dogs fight over food. This was, of course, nothing more than a game to her. It always had been from the moment she stepped onto Faerghus territory all those years ago. To see someone threaten to snatch her most prized trophy, a whole country that was hers to rule, was more than enough to irk her.

And all thanks to that loathsome, Almyran brat. She honestly preferred being dead again.

“Cornelia!” a soldier shouted to her, panic settled deep in his voice as he caught the attention of the mage. “The city is overrun with insurrection. It seems to be in response to our enemy’s arrival. If we do nothing, our army may suffer damages. We should suppress the citizens immediately.”

“Nothing unexpected,” she replied. “Let them do as they please. Or are you saying we have enough soldiers to divide our forces? Quite bold of you, with our enemy’s most elite soldiers at our doorstep.”

“Then... What do you suggest we do?”

If her spies spoke as much of the truth as they claimed, Cornelia knew that the little king was likely out of the picture. At least for the moment. Meaning all she had to concern herself with was that pesky prince and the couple’s third wheel. This brought a smile to her face.

“The city is going to be a battlefield anyway. Kill all who oppose us, even if they are members of the general populace. Go on, now. You’re needed out there.”

The soldier bowed to her. “As you wish. May we find fortune in the battle to come.”

With that, the soldier ran off to tend to the enemy, leaving Cornelia to her lonesome once again. Her gaze returned to the half-destroyed city as a smirk crawled on her face.

“My, my. What an inconvenience the little princeling has turned out to be. And bringing that troublesome person with him... It would have been much better if he and his sister had been good little children and just killed each other,” she giggled to herself. “But I think I have a _much_ better idea.”

Cornelia turned on her heel to head back inside the palace, weaving through the enormous and numerous halls until she reached a stairway that would lead into the dark, cold underways of Fhirdiad. Carefully taking a torch placed on the stoned wall, she made her way down the dark and empty corridor until she reached the very end.

The stairway led to a single room, which was mostly empty at first sight. However, Cornelia moved deeper into the space and pressed her hand against one of the stone bricks, activating a secret passage. Once the way was made clear, she stepped inside and continued her merry little way until she reached yet another room.

This one was much larger, but it was even darker than any other space within the castle. Cornelia held the torch up high, less one of the beasts she kept hidden away here knocked it out of her hands, leaving her in total darkness. As she walked to the other end of the room, the glow of the fire revealed monsters that hide in shadowed cells, hidden away from the world of light above. Many of them were demonic beasts, or creatures that were neither entirely human nor entirely monster—rather, some sick and twisted mixture of the two—but she did not stop until she reached the very last cell to her right. She turned again and smiled at the slumped-over figure, her grin reaching her mischievous eyes.

“I need you to wake up,” she said to the creature. “I have an important mission for you...”

* * *

By the time they had reached Cornelia’s position, over half of the city was ablaze with the other half entirely in shambles from civilian-soldier confrontations. Corpses decorated the streets, and it angered the prince to see his people forced to kill one another this way. Families and friends turning on one another simply because of which side they supported. It was maddening, and it had to stop here and now.

From their position just beneath the stairs to the palace, Dimitri could see Cornelia as smug as ever above them. Seeing her face made his blood boil with rage, and he knew he could not let her get away. The people of Faerghus will have their justice!

“Advance! Smash that traitor Cornelia and reclaim the capital!” Dimitri yelled to his troops. “I will not lose... I swear it by the blood in my veins!”

The rest of the soldiers yelled in agreement, and the two armies charged ahead to clash out on the battlefield before them. Dimitri and Byleth were able to weave through the waves of Dukedom soldiers with ease in an effort to get closer to Cornelia’s position, but as they climbed the first set of stairs they encountered a pair of large, fortress-like beasts. Dimitri was taken aback by the sight of them, surprised to see something so advanced being used by the Empire. Then again, perhaps it was the work of the Agarthans. Was their technology truly so far ahead, or could they simply be powered by magic?

Either way, it did not matter. Byleth called to Linhardt, who was only a few feet away from where they stood, and ordered him to warp them past the creatures closer to Cornelia. Linhardt, first calling to Caspar to deal with the soldiers that were ganging up on him, immediately got to work and cast a warp spell on the prince and professor. Dimitri and Byleth could feel the magic flowing through them as their forms disappeared with a wave of light. Then, in the blink of an eye, they reappeared right in front of the mage herself. The soldiers surrounding her were clearly surprised by the tactic, and immediately took to the offense.

However, Byleth immediately jumped into action. One, a knight wielding an iron sword, swung at Dimitri, only for his attack to be countered by Byleth and his Sword of the Creator. The professor immediately looked at Dimitri as the soldier was thrown off his balance from the surprising retaliation.

“Get to Cornelia!” he told him. “I’ll handle these guys.”

Without wasting a breath, the prince nodded, picked up his weapon, and made a beeline for the mage. Areadbhar in hand, Dimitri ran to face Cornelia alone.

The woman gave a wicked grin as she saw the young man approach her. “My, it’s been a long time hasn’t it, Your Highness? You’ve grown awfully strong.”

Dimitri scoffed at her, his eye narrowed in sickened rage. “How shameless. I bet it was you who killed my uncle and set me up, am I right?”

“Guilty as charged!” the mage giggled. “Honestly, I’d already forgotten all about that loveliness.”

The prince had his suspicions, but hearing the truth spill from the criminal’s mouth was all he needed for his anger to rise deep into his chest. This hatred he felt was not that of the ghosts that haunted him. No, it was entirely his own, and he would see to it that it was utilized to bring justice even to someone as unforgiving as his uncle.

“I will kill you, you monster! You will pay for all that you have done!”

“I’d love to see you try, little prince!”

And like that, the two were caught in a strenuous battle of both power and wit. Cornelia, having mastered all forms of magic, blasted a Dark Spikes spell at the charging prince as well as a powered Excalibur without a moment’s hesitation. However, Dimitri managed to dodge both attacks, his time spent in the wilderness allowing him to hone his flexibility in battle, before he continued to dash through the battlefield. When he was within reach, the prince took his family’s relic and raised it high above his head as he prepared to strike.

The prince let out a mighty cry, “This battle is finished!” before swinging down with all his might.

His aim struck true, and Areadbhar struck Cornelia right on her left shoulder. The mage let out a pained howl as blood poured through the wound like a running river. Cornelia staggered a bit, but Dimitri would not allow her the chance to recover. Instead, he continued his onslaught on her, and each attack managed to hit its target. Cornelia was simply overpowered by the prince.

With little to no strength left in her to counter Dimitri, Cornelia collapsed to her knees on the stone pavement of the city streets. She looked up, her face twisted in anger, as she snarled at the prince.

“So this is as far as I was going to get, huh? Heh... Well, so be it. Still, I suppose I’ll leave you with a little gift...”

Dimitri scowled her at, thrusting his lance forward in threat: if she dared to move, she’d be struck down. “It’s over Cornelia,” he told her. “If you have any last words, now is the time. Though you should make them count.”

“Believe me, I will.” Cornelia’s expression shifted, bearing a sickeningly sweet grin, but her eyes still held more malice than anyone Dimitri had ever seen before. “I have an old tale that I would like you to hear. About something that happened ten years ago or so... Something Patricia said about how she wished to see her  _ real _ daughter again, no matter who or what she had to sacrifice to do so... And about how I made her wish come true, at the cost of the king’s head...”

Dimitri’s eye bulged, his heart stopping in his chest. Patricia... His stepmother. No. This was some kind of trick!

“You... You mean Duscur... You mean to say that my father, everyone, was killed by my...my stepmother...?” The prince’s voice quivered ever so slightly, the shock within him overwhelming his senses. And oh, how Cornelia laughed at the sight of it.

“That’s right. Her family meant everything to her. You certainly know that feeling, don’t you? Ah, poor little prince. Unloved by the only mother you ever knew... How pitiful. I almost feel bad for you. Almost.”

Another laugh rang through the mage, and Dimitri could swear his head ached and his ears were filled with nothing but static. His stepmother... No, it couldn’t be.

“You... You’re a liar...”

“Am I?” Cornelia countered. She let out another laugh, but this time blood had spilled from her lips, throwing her into a coughing fit as her insides began to spill onto the pavement beneath her. “There’s nothing left for you now, dear prince. Nothing but despair. Oh, and one last thing...”

The mage gave the prince one last smile, and when Dimitri saw it he could see her life slowly slipping from her grasp. Yet, at the same time, there was something in the glints behind her eyes. Something terribly sinister, and the prince felt fear bubble inside of him.

“What?” he growled. “What other lies do you wish to spread?”

“Oh, it’s not a lie, Your Highness. More of a promise,” she replied. “Let’s just say... You should keep a close eye on your little duke. Oh, what was his name? Ah! I remember now...”

“Cornelia, what are you-?”

“I have no more time for words, as you can perfectly see, but say ‘hello’ to our dear  _ King Khalid _ for me, will you? I left a  _ very _ special gift for him.”

And like that, Dimitri  _ snapped _ .

His eye contracted, the blue of his eye nearly disappearing into the white sea, as the anger rising inside him finally overflowed. In a fit of rage, Dimitri let out a loud cry as he brung Areadbhar down and onto the mage’s head, cutting it clean off the woman’s body. Blood splattered across the stone around them, some even spilling onto Dimitri’s armor and face, as Cornelia’s head rolled some feet away from her now fallen corpse.

Silence fell upon the city, and everyone looked to Dimitri as the sound had caught the attention of all. Allies and enemies alike noticed the headless body of Cornelia, and ever so slowly did cheers echo across the land. It was done. The woman was dead, and Faerghus was free from Imperial control.

However, the woman’s words still repeated over and over in the prince’s head like a mantra, and Dimitri could not help but worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted this to be longer, but then my allergies started acting up and all my creative will just left in a puff of smoke,,,,, But it be like that sometimes. I've also gotten distracted by Fire Emblem Heroes (really trying to at least summon Claude next since I got Dimitri first before it ends) and trying to figure out the mechanics again since I haven't played it in a whole year. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you guys next time! Now I'm gonna grab something to eat before heading off to bed so I can do stuff (I've been avoiding homework this entire weekend since we have Labor Day off).
> 
> Catch ya'll in the next one! If you guys have any good bloopers to share from reading, like, ANY scene in this fic so far ya'll can leave them in the comments (if you want) since I'm too physically exhausted to share some myself. But I'll be sure to leave what I have in the next update to compensate as well as some of my favorites in the end car.
> 
> Goodnight friends!


	43. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri is welcomed back by his people, but there are some things that he needs to get off his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this took so long to come, but I ended up spraining my wrist right before I started writing the draft for this. I tried everything I could to get it to heal faster, but it looks like it'll still take some time to get back to normal. I'm in a deep and serious pain...
> 
> Anyway, again, sorry for the delay. It was supposed to be done a whole day earlier but here we are. Hope you guys enjoy!

The celebration that followed after Cornelia’s demise made Dimitri feel things he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling anymore: joy, fulfillment, comfort, content, and, most importantly, he felt at home again. A large crowd appeared before him, the people of Fhirdiad who survived the battle way below where he stood on the balcony all singing and shouting their praise to their new king. He had expected their anger, their resentment, but never their joy at his return, especially he had turned his back on them and fled the city in disgrace five years ago. After he had taken the lives of so many, he thought they would at least want him punished for his crimes. But to see them all happy that he was now their king brought Dimitri to full blown tears, and on the balcony did he weep with joy at the prospect of finally being able to be home once again after so long.

The party went well into the night, a feast declared by the people and Kingdom officials alike in honor of their new king. It eventually became a little overwhelming to Dimitri, and the man took a quick step outside to admire the city streets.

It was now the middle of spring, and though one may think the weather had not changed at all Dimitri could feel the warmer winds picking up. The king closed his eye to bask in it, allowing the night to hold him tight in its loving grasp, before opening it again to stare into the star-filled sky above. The way they twinkled and danced across the blanket of darkness made him feel nostalgic in a way that felt...odd. Sure, he would stare up into the night sky when he was a child, especially when his nightmares were ceaseless after the Tragedy, but the feeling was entirely different from that. Almost like the stars meant something deeper than just company for when sleep evaded him, but it was something he had never experienced and thus could never put a word to it. Still, he enjoyed the feeling, and so he continued to stare into the sea of light above him for just a moment longer.

“Hello, Your Majesty.”

Ah. And there he was: the man that would always somehow tail him whenever he found himself alone.

Dimitri turned with a smile to see the professor standing there, a bright glow in the man’s green eyes as he stared at his pupil.

“Hello to you as well, Professor. Though you don’t need to commit to formalities. I’m still just me, after all,” he said. Then, a loud cheer that seemed to have come from Raphael erupted from the palace entrance just a few feet away from them, followed by a loud crashing sound. Both men turned to the noise with a wince before their gazes moved to each other, and they let out a hearty laugh.

“It seems our celebratory feast shows no sign of stopping. Have you grown weary of the festivities?” Dimitri asked.

“I was just about to ask you the very same. You looked tired as you were leaving.”

“Ah. It’s not that I’ve grown weary, but... I just find it, er, difficult, I suppose, to be around everyone at the moment.”

Byleth tilted his head curiously. “Care to elaborate?” he asked, and before the king even spoke did the other’s sigh give the professor the answer he needed.

“I was visiting the graves of my loved ones earlier,” Dimitri confessed. “It had been a long time since I left flowers. I was always terribly afraid of going near there... But I knew I couldn’t stay away forever.”

“I... I see...”

“May I be honest, Professor? It’s something that has been on my mind since our talk on the Great Bridge.”

“If you’re expecting an apology for cursing you out, the answer is ‘no’.” Byleth stood firmly, crossing his arms over his chest with a raised brow at the king. “I stand by every word I said, and it seemed to have been enough to get you to snap out of the last of your funk.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No, I do not expect any apologies. I... I want to thank you, actually. I have never considered until now the implications of my actions. And how you and Claude both have had a great influence on me. I feel... I feel as if, if neither of you returned to the monastery on that fateful day, that perhaps I would have met the same fate of which Claude described to me back during our Academy days. I most certainly would have died a fruitless death on the battlefield if it weren’t for the two of you, charging carelessly until someone finally put me out of my misery. But thanks to both of your efforts, I am now finally back home and in my rightful place as king. So... Thank you.”

The king’s words seemed to have brought a smile on to the professor’s face, and Byleth unfolded his arms to instead place them upon his hips casually.

“I’m glad,” he said, “but I wonder... Do you still desire revenge, Dimitri?”

“No. It was never something I wished for but, rather, something I felt I was obligated to fulfill. Something I inherited from those who died. I believed my life belonged to those who lost their own at Duscur, but what I seek now is something else entirely. That I can say with confidence.”

“Good. As long as we don’t have to save your ass anymore, I’ll leave the rest to you,” the professor said, letting out a small laugh. “But, seriously, I’m proud of you Dimitri. And I know everyone else is too, especially Claude.”

Dimitri felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of the duke, though it was not out of admiration or even love for the man. Cornelia’s words still clung to him, and he could only hope that he was safe and sound now back at the monastery so he could continue to rest until he was at full health again. But he would not bring up such worries to the professor. Goddess knows that, after everything, the poor man needed a break. In fact, everyone did. So the king silently prayed that it was nothing more than a threat that would never be carried out.

Taking a deep breath, Dimitri turned away from the professor as the other man walked closer to join the king’s side under the stars.

“That reminds me... Are you two together yet?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri felt his face explode with heat. “I... Um, uh... That is rather, um, difficult to answer at the moment...” This made the professor smirk.

“Well, once Claude wakes up, you two should get on that.”

“I doubt there will be time for us to talk over such things. Our...relationship, so to speak, should be saved for when all of Fodlan isn’t quite in danger from the threat of war.”

Byleth rolled his eyes. “Whatever works for the two of you, I guess.”

Dimitri looked over at the professor, immediately noticing the annoyed look on his face. Did his and Claude’s relationship really bother him so much? Then again, he remembered having the same attitude towards the two of them. Though he supposed it was for an entirely different reason from the professor’s. Speaking of which...

“Professor, there is something else I feel like I should share with you...”

“No need to ask, Dimitri,” the professor told him, “just say what you need to say. I’m not one to judge.”

“R-Right. I just... Well, I feel like I owe you an apology.”

“An apology?”

Dimitri nodded, turning away as his face flushed again in embarrassment. “Yes. For my hostility towards you back when I was a student. I... I admit I was rather jealous knowing about you and Claude’s relationship and well... It was no excuse for me to act that way towards you, especially considering you were an authority figure.”

Byleth turned his gaze to the king, his eyes opened wide and brows tilted upwards in surprised curiosity. “What are you talking about? I mean, I know you were jealous, but I never really understood why. Claude was still only my student. If any feelings arose, why... Honestly I’d feel disgusted with myself. I was still his teacher, and that’s just wrong.”

This time, it was Dimitri’s turn to look at the professor with surprise, his expression mirroring Byleth’s.

“Wait... You mean, he never told you?” he asked.

“Told me what?”

_ Oh, Goddess above, he never told him!? _

“Um... W-Well, I don’t really think it’s really my place to-”

“Dimitri, I swear to Sothis, if you don’t tell me, I’ll tell Claude about the time you interrogated me when we visited Jeritza in Abyss.”

“Alright! Alright!” Dimitri let out a sigh. “When Claude confessed to me that he was sent back in time, he... He told me the two of you were married, and that the two of you ruled Fodlan and Almyra together before he was sent to the past. I didn’t realize my feelings then, but... Knowing you two were together upset me, and I suppose my frustrations grew into jealousy. I fear I may have acted more...hostile towards you than I intended.”

Byleth felt a rush of heat run down his neck, and everything clicked into place after that. The professor let out a soft hum as he returned his gaze to the stars.

“Ah. That makes perfect sense, then. But you shouldn’t have to worry about me stealing him away: I’ve already said I had no interest in him beyond how anyone else feels.”

“I know that now, but I’m still quite surprised at how things turned out. I expected the two of you to immediately click, at least on Claude’s end given your relationship to one another. After all, you clearly had enough chemistry between the two of you to get married.”

This time, it was Byleth who shook his head at the king. “Actually, I’ve had my eye on someone else since our mission to rescue Flayn. So even if Claude felt any attraction towards me, I’m afraid it would have been unrequited.”

Dimitri looked again at the professor with surprise. “Oh? And who would that be?” However, before the professor could give an answer, it hit the king. “Ah. It’s Yuri, isn’t it.”

Byleth immediately sputtered, his face going beet red as he whirled around to face the king with embarrassed shock.

“I-I... You have no idea what you’re talking about.” The man’s stutter made Dimitri laugh.

“No need to be embarrassed, Professor. After all, it’s as you said: a simple crush is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Byleth glared daggers at him. “I hate that you remember that conversation... But, if you must know, yes. I...suppose I have grown feelings for Yuri since he joined the war effort five years ago. But I’ve never fully acknowledged it until now. Something I suppose the both of us share, huh?” The professor then let out a sigh. “Please don’t tell Claude about this when we get back. I’ll never hear the end of it from him if he finds out.”

Dimitri once again let out a laugh. “Very well. This will stay between us, for now.”

“Good. And remember: I’m serious about telling him in case you get any ideas about running your mouth,” Byleth warned. “You may be a king now, but Claude will soon be one as well again. Your titles don’t change the fact I’m still your teacher, and that I can and  _ will _ implement discipline if need be.”

The king shook his head as a small chuckle escaped his lips. This felt nice, to be so open with someone. Though it was surprising to see that it was the professor of all people that he had grown closest to other than Claude. Still, it wasn’t an unwelcomed experience, he supposed.

However, the joyful moment seemed to have been short-lived. Dimitri heard the sounds of footsteps approaching them, and him and the professor both turned to see a Kingdom soldier frantically rushing at them. There was panic in his face and in his movements, and Dimitri suddenly felt something was  _ very _ wrong.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” the knight called. “I have urgent news from Garreg Mach!”

“What? What happened?” the king asked.

“The monastery... It’s under attack!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, some bloopers.
> 
> Byleth: *verbally abuses Dimitri into becoming a better person*  
> Also Byleth: AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN! BAP! BAP! BAP!
> 
> Dimitri: *goes on and on about how much he likes and appreciates Claude*  
> Byleth: oh my god, just f*ck already-
> 
> Dimitri: btw sorry for being real aggressive back then i just hated the fact you were married to my crush-  
> Byleth: wait, Claude and I were what?  
> Dimitri: fuck NOTHING NOTHING FORGET WHAT I SAID ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION
> 
> Byleth: don't matter if Claude likes me, I'm into someone else and you'll never be able to find out who it is-  
> Dimitri: it's Yuri isn't it  
> Byleth: one word from you and it's on sight motherfucker
> 
> Dimitri: ah, this is nice. just me, the professor, and Claude all just getting along. Absolutely nothing to worry abou-  
> Soldier: yo someone's trying to kill everyone in the monastery  
> Dimitri: motherFUCKER-
> 
> It's just Bully Dimitri Season for Byleth at this point. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this one! Now I'm gonna go back to binge watching The Legend of Korra while waiting for my wrist to heal because I'm just absolutely simping over this gorgeous woman of an Avatar like holy hell is she awesome.


	44. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monastery is under attack by none other than Arundel, but the man hasn't come alone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My wrist is still messed up, so I can't really draw like I've been wanting to, but that just means I have more energy to crank out more chapters so it's a win-win I guess? I don't know.
> 
> Btw: I was officially done with and posted this at midnight. Crazy, am I right?

It was difficult to move, and even more difficult to think. The line between reality and his dreams were blurred beyond recognition. Claude was never too sure if what he saw was merely a dream or was truly before him.

The last thing he remembered was Dimitri’s warmth, his voice, his overly gentle touch—no doubt done out of fear that, with one wrong flex of his body, the man held in his arms would be crushed—but anything beyond that was a mystery to him. Sometimes he would open his eyes and find himself somewhere he knew he wasn’t supposed to be. Like at home in Almyra, back in his 8-year-old body, or once again at the monastery long before the war, and every single time he was thrown into a panic. Eventually, it became normal to him. It stopped mattering whether or not he was really sent back in time again. He just wanted everything flashing before him to stop.

He would jump again and again from different parts of his life to another one. Once, he was taken away from his boyhood and thrown into his adult life after the war before he was again taken back to his life as a general of the Alliance’s army. It was too much for him to comprehend. Especially since everything felt so _real_.

The bodies on the battlefield, the torment from his older brothers, the multiple attempts at his life... It was like he was experiencing everything he’d ever gone through in the span of one dream, but it always felt as if it were really happening all over again. Claude had found himself praying to the gods on more than one occasion for it to just end. His prayers were even directed towards Sothis a few times. Unfortunately, they were never answered.

So it was of no surprise when Claude felt his eyes open once again to see himself as a teenager standing on a foggy battlefield. The roar of his classmates filled the air, along with the cries of grown soldiers who were more prepared for battle than any of them ever were, and the glow of Catherine’s Thunderbrand was merely a few feet away from where he stood. Beside him was Byleth, his hair back to its dark green hue and the Sword of the Creator missing from his hip, who charged far ahead of the others with him.

As they moved, Claude could see a figure standing in the near distance, and once they were close enough for the silhouette to hide away did he see that it was Lord Lonato glaring down at them. Ah, he remembered this now. Whether or not it was in his first life or this one, he was unsure, but considering the others were nowhere to be seen Claude was forced to believe it was the latter he was witnessing at this moment.

The memory ran through like all the others, with Lonato declaring he would have his revenge against the Church and Rhea while Claude begged for him to explain himself before Catherine came rushing in. With a swift swing of her sword, Lonato was no more. His body collapsed to the ground, but Claude did not see it fall.

Instead, his eyes opened again, likely to a new memory, when he saw a familiar shadow standing over him. It was certainly different and unexpected, but Claude felt too tired to argue against it. He figured it was some locked away recollection that he hid in a vault in the back of his mind, something long forgotten for the sake of his own sanity. But the glow of the shadow’s eyes were painfully familiar. The pair were colored entirely in a bloody, red shade, and the being was covered from head-to-toe in a purple hue that gave them a mist-like appearance. He had seen such a thing before with Nemesis, who was revived by the Agarthans with their magic, but for it to be him was impossible.

The shadow looked nothing like the thief. For one, he was a whole head shorter, and his hair wasn’t tied up in a messy ponytail. Rather, it was let down and fell behind him like a silver halo, and his beard was missing too. The armor was nowhere near the same either. Rather than Nemesis, the strange being before Claude looked much more like Lonato.

But...that was also impossible. Lonato was long dead, and he doubted the Agarthans cared enough to bring him back. Unlike Nemesis, Lonato had nothing to give to the Slitherers. He had no power, no relic to use. He was simply a lord from the Kingdom who faced great tragedy. So, Claude chalked it up to just some other messed up dream. He closed his eyes again, hoping to drift off into another, more pleasant memory. Hopefully, one that also made much more sense than whatever the hell he just saw.

* * *

Dimitri and Byleth gathered the troops as quickly as they could, but in the end it still took a few weeks for them to make it back to Garreg Mach Monastery. And by the looks of things, it seemed they were nearly too late.

The already decimated monastery had a few new piles of rubble, not to mention the bodies that littered the streets back in the village just beneath the mountain. The Imperial Army had already laid a full siege on the place, but from the sounds of metal clashing and soldiers screaming, it looked like they weren’t out of the game just yet.

The army rushed ahead and up the mountain, through the monastery gates, to find the place in even worse shambles than when they left it. Knights and Imperial soldiers were still fighting to gain control on their independent ends, but now that the rest of them had arrived hopefully the tides would turn.

“Everyone! See to it the enemy does not overrun the monastery! Take out any Imperial soldier you see!” Dimitri commanded to his men, receiving an enthusiastic “yes, sir!” in reply. The king then turned to Byleth as the others branched out. “We need to find Claude, and fast.”

Byleth nodded in agreement. “He should be in the infirmary,” he told the king. “Let’s head there now.”

“Right.”

Together, Dimitri and Byleth ventured through the battlefield that was now Garreg Mach to get to the staircase leading to the second floor. However, as they rushed through the marketplace into the entrance hall and, finally, entered the reception hall, the king and professor found themselves face-to-face with their enemy.

Dimitri narrowed his eye in rage at the familiar man. His grip on Areadbhar tightened, especially as the bastard turned around and smirked at the king.

“Ah, Dimitri. It has been quite some time, has it not?”

“Uncle,” the king hissed. “I demand you leave this place at once!”

Arundel quirked a brow. “Oh? But I just got here! Is that any way to treat your dear, old uncle? My, what a savage you’ve become. Much like your father...”

“Silence! Why have you invaded the monastery? And I want a direct answer?”

“Direct, you say? Very well...”

Arundel removed his hand from the reins of his steed, raising it above himself before snapping his fingers in a quick motion as if he were commanding a beast. But then, something wicked occurred...

From behind Arundel walked out what Dimitri could only guess what some sick nightmare turned into real life, a beast that should not walk the earth. Standing before them, with an unconscious Claude thrown haphazardly on his back, was who the king could only recognize as Lord Lonato. Yet, the man looked far too different for his liking. His skin was purple with a hazy mist following his movements, as if he were a mere ghost, and his eyes glowed as red as the color of the Empire decorating the uniforms of the fallen soldiers outside the hall. Dimitri’s eye snapped open wide as he stared in sickened shock.

“Lord... Lord Lonato...? But that’s... That’s impossible!” Then, the king’s gaze fell to Claude’s resting face, and he felt anger surge through him again. “What have you done to Cladue? If you hurt a single hair on his head, I will-!”

“Now, now, my dear nephew... Nothing is impossible with a little bit of magic on your side,” Arundel answered, his face far too smug for Dimitri’s comfort. “As for the king here, I think we’ll be taking him back to the Empire with us once we’ve cleared this place out.”

“King? But... How could you possibly...? What are you on about, Uncle?”

“Dimitri,” Byleth called to the king, his voice in a low whisper and eyes trained on the Imperial regent with the Sword of the Creator already within his grasp. “I know Claude and I must’ve forgotten to mention this to you, but it’s entirely possible that isn’t your uncle. It’s likely Thales disguised as Arundel, using his body to impersonate him and roam freely around Fodlan without drawing too much attention onto himself.”

The king had no idea who Thales was, but the idea of someone using his uncle’s body was, well... Disturbing would be putting it  _ lightly _ . But now that he thought about it, that would explain Arundel’s sudden disappearance all those years ago before he saw him again at Garreg Mach. Yet, that could only mean...

Dimitri felt bile rise in his throat, and he had to throw his hand over his mouth to keep it from spilling on the crack floor of the reception hall. His uncle’s body... Being used like a puppet... Oh, Goddess, he felt sick beyond imagination.

Still, he would have to swallow it for now. Instead of worrying over the details, Dimitri focused on that disgusted feeling and channeled it to further fuel his rage. This man, his uncle or not, would pay dearly for what he had done to everyone: all of Fodlan, the people of Duscur, and, most especially, Claude.

The king brought himself to stand to recover from the news, and he stared at Arundel—Thales? Gah, it didn’t matter!—with unspeakable hatred. He thrusted Areadbhar forward, and with a growl declared, “I’m giving you one chance to back away and give him to us. Else we will have no choice but to end your miserable lives.”

The other man let out a laugh. “Right. As if I’m intimidated by a boy such as yourself. Besides, you want His Majesty alive, right?” Arundel looked down at the Lonato zombie and gave a firm nod. The beast nodded as well in reply before reaching into its scabbard and drawing its sword. The creature then brought Claude down from his back and placed him firmly on the ground, bringing the edge of the blade slowly to the brunette’s exposed neck. Dimitri and Byleth could only stare in horror at the threat.

“You... You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but I think I would,” Arundel said. “It seems this brat of a king has exposed too many of our secrets, and so he must pay the price. Either allow us to escape, or your friend here loses his head. Your choice,  _ dear nephew _ .”

Another laugh erupted from the regent’s throat, and Dimitri suddenly felt helpless. If he made any move to attack Arundel, he may as well have forfeited Claude’s life. But if he released them, there was no guarantee they’d keep him around for long, and he wasn’t looking forward to finding Claude dead in a ditch somewhere in Imperial territory. Assuming they’d leave a body for him to find in the first place... Still, he had to at least do  _ something _ !

Finding no options, Dimitri turned to the professor, who returned a worried gaze. Byleth quickly glanced at Arundel for a moment before stepping close enough to the king for him to speak without their enemy listening in.

“Dimitri, I have a plan,” he said. “I’m going to go after whatever the fuck that...thing is holding Claude hostage while you go after Arundel.”

“Yes, but... How do we get close enough to fight them without worrying for Claude?” the king asked.

“You forget how my sword works... Trust me when I say I’ll be able to distract that fucker before he even gets a chance at hurting him. But once I attack first, you need to gain Arundel’s attention so we can slowly drag them away from Claude’s body.”

Dimitri hesitated, his eye returning to the figure of the beast resembling Lonato before it rested once again on Byleth.

“And... You’re certain this will work?”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll just rewind time so I can figure out another strategy.”

“Wait, since when were you able to do that!?”

“We can talk about that later! Right now, we need to save Claude!” Byleth told him. “Just... Go on my signal. Got that?”

“Alright...”

Dimitri held his grip on his relic, expecting Byleth to perfectly calculate his timing in his sneak attack in order to make this plan as effective as possible. He analyzed their enemy’s movements, thinking of the perfect way to strike once the professore carefully-

“Eat this!”

Without a single moment of hesitation, Byleth whipped at the Lonato-like beast with the Sword of the Creator, forcing it to drop the blade it held against Claude’s body. Then, just as quickly as the first time, he attacked again, this time striking the creature across the chest with the sword. Lonato-Beast didn’t seem very happy about that, and abandoned its post immediately to charge after the professor.

Byleth started running away from Dimitri’s position. “Go! Go, now!” he urged the king, and Dimitri, still in a slight trance from watching...whatever just happened, quickly snapped out of his daze before turning to Lord Arundel. Then, with determination in his soul, he rushed at the Imperial regent with as much force as he could muster.

Dimitri lifted his lance and swung it at his uncle, catching the man by surprise. Arundel was, consequently, thrown off his horse—which fled in fear at the prospect of danger being so close by—from the power of the king’s attack, falling to the marble floor of the hall. Dimitri did not wait for him to recover, however, and took Areadbhar once more in his hand as he prepared to strike down the imposter.

Without a single shred of mercy, Dimitri raised his weapon and struck Arundel straight through his chest, essentially pinning him to the ground. The regent let out a howl as his body contorted in pain and he stared up at the king with a burning hatred.

“You...fucking... Gah-!”

Dimitri felt something inside him smirk, and he almost allowed a feral grin to grace his lips. But he held himself back, and instead pushed the lance deeper into the wound to keep Arundel steady beneath him.

“Now will you answer my questions?”

Arundel’s glare deepened. He supposed he had his answer. Not like there was any point anyway... He likely wouldn’t have answered him, the man’s life in his very hands or not. So Dimitri felt no pity or remorse as he removed the lance from his chest and grabbed the man by his neck, lifting him with his awesome strength.

The two shared one last gaze—a single, deep blue eye staring back into empty orbs of violet—before Dimitri closed his fist around the other’s neck, essentially crushing Arundel’s windpipe and killing him. With the sound of snapping bones filling the hall, and from the sounds of flesh being torn and blood spilling onto the ground accompanying his own victory, the battle was over.

Dimitri dropped the fresh corpse onto the floor with a soft ‘thud!’, and he turned away from it. The king’s only concern now was the unconscious man that still laid sleeping on the monastery floor.

He picked Claude up gently, being careful not to underestimate his strength considering he just crushed another man’s neck mere seconds ago, and turned back to the expecting professor who waited on the other side of the hall. Byleth looked at Dimitri with a soft expression before offering the man a nod, to which the king returned one in kind.

With that, Dimitri made his way towards the staircase to place Claude back in bed so he would be allowed to finish resting. It was strange to see the monastery be brought further to decay, corpses filling its halls as it did months ago when it was just him and his ghosts, as he held the sleeping duke in his grasp. Dimitri refused to turn his eye away from Claude’s figure, fearing that if he did then the man would disappear from his sight forever. No... He’d never leave Claude alone like this ever again. Until the next battle, he swore to stay by his side until he woke up. That was a promise.

When he had made it to the second floor of the monastery, Dimitri was careful as he approached the infirmary and opened the door with one hand—or, at least, the best he  _ could _ open it with one hand while he held a grown man in the other—before stepping inside. It had been some time since he last stepped foot in this place, but the smell of Manuela’s wine and healing herbs was still as present as ever. It was nostalgic to the king.

Dimitri walked in further to gently place Claude back in bed, lifting the covers to tuck him underneath them to keep him warm. When that was said and done, the king looked around the room before his gaze landed on Manuela’s chair. He took it and placed it as quietly as he could besides Claude’s bed before plopping down on it. Then, he sat and waited.

But just as he took a seat, it seemed, the duke began to squirm in bed. The brunette let out a low, frustrated groan as his head lightly thrashed about, like a babe being rudely woken up from its nap. Dimitri watched Claude carefully, his heart hammering in his chest and his eye blowing wide as he was met with two, emerald lanterns and an easy, sly smile spread across warm skin. His world, previously covered in darkness, was lit up once again as he stared at the beautiful, grinning face that was Claude who was looking right back at him: awake and well.

“Heya, big guy,” he greeted the king. “Long time no see, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Byleth yelled "eat this!" I originally wanted him to yell "yippee ki yay motherfucker!"
> 
> Unfortunately, he doesn't quite understand references yet, but in due time my friends. In due time. Also, sorry but I really suck at descriptive fight scenes so I just try to end it as quickly as possible. Don't know why.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed these updates. I'm seriously just waiting until my wrist is well enough for me to start drawing again because I just have SO many ideas for my OCs... I've got a whole lot of redesigning to do for them as well as just some cute concept art, and I want to start designing a few FE3H OCs too. I already have some, but had to throw that story out the window after the Ashen Wolves DLC pack came out because they already had a saint with the same name as my OC. My live is full of pain :')
> 
> Peace out ya'll, and I'll see you next time!


	45. The Beginning and End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude is now awake, and him and Dimitri have a little heart-to-heart about their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after chapters upon chapters of angst and battle we get some fluff up in here (with a slight hint of angst cause duh). Hope you enjoy this cause it's sappier than maple syrup.

When he finally awakens, Claude is glad that the first thing he sees is Dimitri. For a moment, the duke believed he was in yet another dream. But the pain he feels throughout his body feels far too real for it to be so, and that fact brought a smile to his face as he stared up at Dimitri—the real Dimitri, not just some dream or memory of him.

“Heya, big guy,” he greeted the man. “Long time no see, huh?”

Shock is written all over Dimitri’s face as he shouted in surprise, “Claude! You’re awake! Oh, thank goodness... I wasn’t sure how much longer you would sleep for.”

“I think I’ve had a long enough nap to last me several lifetimes... But, uh, how long was I out for anyway?”

The duke could see hesitancy in the king’s eyes before he received his answer.

“Roughly over a month, considering it took time to take you back to the monastery while we marched towards Faerghus in addition to the time we spent attempting to come back before this place was completely overrun,” Dimitri explained. “But that’s besides the point. Now that you’re awake, Claude, I feel I owe you many apologies. I... You shouldn’t have had to burden yourself with me, and I’m sure I was more trouble than I was worth, and I’m truly sorry for everything... I just- I-I...”

Claude rolled his eyes at Dimitri’s stumbling, taking his hand gently as he gave his signature smile. “First off, take a breather, Your Princeliness. Give yourself a moment to at least figure out what you’re trying to say, I think you owe yourself _that_ much. Second, no need for apologies. Though I’ll gladly accept them if it makes you feel better. I knew what I was getting myself into trying to find you and help bring you back to your senses.”

“Claude...”

“Though, if I knew nearly dying would be the best way to go about it, I think I would’ve just had Teach stab me if it meant getting through to you. I mean... I’m sure it’d be the perfect payback for all the times I’ve annoyed the shit out of him.”

“Claude, that is not something to joke about!” Dimitri shouted, his face scrunching up with disapproval at Claude’s poor attempt at humor. Still, it didn’t stop the duke from chuckling, leading the king to sigh. “I believe I also owe you an apology for that as well. That sword was meant for me... Had you not stepped in the way-”

“Alright, enough of the ‘sorry’s for a minute, yeah? Whatever else you feel you gotta apologize for, just know that it’s all been forgiven by now. Otherwise we’d be here all day,” Claude said. “Now, I’m much more interested in what’s happened since I passed out. For starters: why did you guys head on up to Faerghus of all places? I thought you’d make it to Enbarr by now in my absence.”

“Ah, yes. After Gronder, I found myself ‘coming to my senses’, as you keep putting it, and with a little help from the professor I decided to liberate my homeland from Cornelia’s grasp. We freed Fhirdiad from the Empire, and I was welcomed back as my people’s king,” Dimitri explained, his gaze lifting to the ceiling in thought as he recounted everything that happened before Claude woke up. “However, our visit was short-lived. A soldier came by that same night with news that Garreg Mach was being attacked by Arundel. But...”

“But...?”

“What we found when we returned was...something else. Not only was Arundel here, but...Lonato was as well, and the two of them held you captive. They wanted to take you back to Imperial territory, but for what they never said. At least...Arundel never said...”

Dimitri looked back at Claude with worry, his brows knitted downwards and lips pulled into a thin line.

“Claude... Lonato looked, well, _different_ in a way that I honestly can’t describe. I mean... It should’ve been impossible for him to be here. We... We know he was killed by Catherine all those years ago. You don’t think...”

Claude, anticipating the king’s question, let out a sharp, exhausted huff of air as his expression grew dim.

“The Agarthans apparently have the ability to bring back the dead and use them as some kind of zombie slaves to do their bidding. I’ve only ever seen the case once before... But I wouldn’t put it past them to collect Lonato’s corpse to use for a later purpose. Especially since they already knew that I was trying to change the course of history.”

“Would they ever use such an ability again?” Dimitri asked. Claude nodded in reply.

“Yeah, but that’s not for some time. They weren’t even the ones to unleash them. It happened only after we defeated them all in their hideout,” he told the king. “But let’s not focus on that now. First, we got to get to the Empire before we even think about going after those freaks. Once their main source of power is gone, they’ll have nowhere else left to run.”

“I agree. For now, we should take things one step at a time.”

“Speaking of which... There’s something-”

“Actually, Claude, if I may, um... I would like to discuss something with you.”

Claude was taken back by Dimitri’s request, his eyes bulging for a moment before he regained his composure. Hesitantly, he gave the king a subtle nod of the head. He watched as Dimitri seemed to take a deep breath—whatever he was about to say, it was likely taking everything he had in him to do so—before it was released. Then, the king’s gaze met Claude’s, and the latter suddenly felt something strange in the pit of his stomach.

“I know this may not be the time, but I fear that if we do not discuss this now the time may never come... You nearly died on more than one occasion, as well as nearly kidnapped, and there is no guarantee either of us will survive this war-”

“Now, don’t go talking like that,” Claude warned him, a deep frown settling in on his face. The man lifted himself so he was now sitting on the bed before he crossed his arms over his chest. “We _will_ make it out of this war alive. I don’t care how many times Teach or I have to turn back time.”

Dimitri’s face fell as well, but more so because with every second that passed in which he couldn’t get this off his chest, the more he felt his confidence draining from him. The king pleaded, “Please, Claude, allow me to finish.”

Claude said nothing, but the glow in his eyes gave the king a sign to continue. Dimitri sighed again.

“What I’m trying to say is... I think we should talk about...us.” Dimitri’s gaze fell as soon as the words left his mouth, and all of a sudden the blond thought it wasn’t such a good idea to bring this up so soon. Ugh, why did he ever listen to the professor?

Still, he supposed there was also no going back now, and so he went on to say, “Since our time together at the Officer’s Academy, I... I suppose I’ve grown to slowly care for you much more than as a friend, and I’ll admit that I may have been jealous of the professor once or twice after you revealed your true identity. That was probably when it was most apparent... Even during the five years of isolation after I was exiled from my home did I never stop thinking of you. Though Edelgard’s head was all that I desired, I also, admittingly, missed your presence as well.” Then, a blush spread across Dimitri’s face as he confessed, “Sometimes... I even thought our rendezvous on the night of the ball was simply a dream I somehow fabricated.”

Ah. Now Claude finally understood. Dimitri wanted them to talk out their...feelings. The duke was never one to actually have these discussions, they were so few and far between whenever they happened, and for a moment he considered brushing off the king’s worries in exchange for more lighthearted conversation. However, before he could even awkwardly laugh off the other’s remarks, Dimitri held up a hand to silence him, and Claude obediently fell quiet.

“To make it short: Claude—no, I suppose I should call you your name since it’s just us... Khalid, I mean to say, I... I’m in love with you, and if you would have me I’d like to stay by your side once this war is over for as long as I am able,” Dimitri said to him, finally returning his gaze to the man. “I’m not sure what my life would be like now if you weren’t a part of it. Perhaps I’d even be dead, just another corpse littering the battlefield. But that doesn’t matter now. You’re here, as am I, and... I want to figure _something_ out with you at the very least.”

“Dimitri...”

For a moment, nothing is said, and instead the two men sit there staring at one another in awkward, unsure silence. Claude takes a quick glance at his hand, which is still resting on top of Dimitri’s, before he allows the strange feeling bubbling inside him to take complete control. He lets out a small fit of laughter, nothing more than a gentle chuckle, before it grows further and further into a chaotic cackle. Guilt rises in him for seemingly mocking the king, but he allows himself a moment to calm before he even looks at Dimitri again to explain.

“I... I’m sorry for that,” he said. “I don’t mean to laugh but... Shit, Dimitri, that was really heartfelt. Guess it got a little weird for me...”

Dimitri’s eye drifts away once more as his face is riddled with dejection. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I suppose it would have been better if I kept such things to myself.”

“What? No, that’s not what I mean!” Claude squeezes Dimitri’s hand as his own expression hardens, his eyes narrowing in determination. “I just... I’ve never been good at these things is all, and I guess laughing is just my way to sort of ease up the tension. I didn’t mean to make it look like I wasn’t taking you seriously cause I... I feel the same way about you.”

The shock on the king’s face is of no surprise to Claude. The duke supposed they both have been pretty starved of affection if this is how they react to a simple love confession.

“There’s always something that’s been...developing there, I guess, even since way before I was shot through time. But I’ve never gotten the actual chance like I did with you to really explore what these feelings meant. You and I weren’t nearly as close as we are now in my first life, I never really saw our relationship as anything beyond a one-sided crush I wanted so badly to avenge, and I guess that’s kind of where the differences lie,” Claude explained. “I never got to _know_ the other Dimitri. But you? We shared our dreams, made plans for the future together, even if it was just trying to stop a war. I _know_ you, Dima. I didn’t even have any intentions to get remotely close to you when I first came here, just to prevent as much damage as I could, but I guess your princely charms pulled me in in the end anyway, huh?”

Claude allowed himself to laugh at the joke, though it did little to ease up on the increasingly panicky feeling emitting itself from his chest as adrenaline rushed through his body like an arrow flying with wind current. It also didn’t help that he realized he, too, was beginning to ramble, and as his laughter died down he looked directly into Dimitri’s eyes—or, well, eye—with what was perhaps the realest smile he’d given since their days at the Academy.

“What I’m trying to say is... I’m in love with you, too. I feel lost without you around, and honestly I think I need you just as much as you think you need me,” he told Dimitri, his face glowing a red hue as he developed a blush to match the king. “Honestly, I thought that much was obvious given we’ve kissed, like, twice already. If that doesn’t prove I like you, then I don’t know what will.”

At that, Dimitri’s already strawberry-colored face turned even redder, and the king made an attempt to hide himself from Claude’s view by covering the blush with his hand. Though, despite his best efforts, it didn’t seem like he was very successful, as Claude immediately had to stifle his laughter at the other’s expression. Dimitri ignored it, however, in favor of meeting the duke’s gaze as much as he could from behind his cover.

“I... I’m glad that you feel the same, truly. If it’s alright with you I... That is, to say, would it be permissible to ask for a third kiss, then?” the king asked.

Claude let out a bark of laughter before giving a nod. “Permission granted,” he replied.

From there, it was all slow. Dimitri reached out to Claude, his gauntleted hand feeling cool to the touch as he used it to cup the latter’s face, before leaning into the other’s personal space. Ever so slowly did he inch closer and closer until their breaths mingled and their scents mixed into a delectable aroma that inflamed their senses. Then, moving just a little further, the gap between them was finally closed as their lips were pressed perfectly together. Claude couldn’t help but close his eyes in pure bliss of the feeling.

It only lasted for a few moments, but by the time the king pulled away to look into the other’s eyes the pair immediately felt a deep longing within them. Especially Dimitri. To have Claude so warm and close to him felt exhilarating, and he swore he had never felt more alive. And so he didn’t hesitate to move in and kiss the man again, this time with both of them clinging to one another as they were drowned in sheer ecstasy with Claude digging his fingered into Dimitri’s long, golden locks while Dimitri pulled Claude in close as his arms 

wrapped around him to grip his shoulders.

Finally, after all this time, they could share a moment of peace in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended this to be a little longer with a surprise visit from Byleth, but that can be saved for the next update. Our little lovebirds can enjoy a moment of peace from their bully of a teacher just this once.
> 
> My wrist is finally back to normal now, so I've been drawing again and it doesn't hurt as much when I type up chapters so hopefully this means I'll be more productive (probably not tho, lol).
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoyed this update! See ya'll in the next one!


	46. Battle at Fort Merceus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the Kingdom has been reclaimed, the march for Enbarr continues.

Byleth was a man of strategy. He was taught from an early age to be prepared for absolutely anything. A group of reinforcements were closing in? Not a problem. A mage casting an unknown spell? That’s kid’s stuff! A full-scale war between three neighboring territories over a ridiculous debate that could have easily been solved with communication? If he didn’t live through it himself, he’d think the chances were low, but nothing he couldn’t handle. But this?

Walking in on his two best students just casually making out after one had nearly died and the other brutally killed a man who looked like his uncle? Yeah, no. Byleth was _definitely_ not expecting _that_ out of all things.

But it didn’t bother the professor either. If anything, it was entertaining to see how the two immediately retracted from one another, their faces flushed red, after noticing their teacher standing _right there_.

“T-Teach! How... How long were you...?”

“Long enough,” he replied, brushing the other man off. “But that’s not important. If you’re done devouring each other, we need you up in the war room to go over our next plan.”

“And what exactly would that entail?” the king asked. “Surely everyone’s exhausted by now... Having marched from Fhirdiad to the monastery in such a short amount of time before being launched immediately into battle.”

“True, but everyone is also eager to get this war done and over with, so they want to continue the march to Enbarr as quickly as possible. Judith and Rodrigue are already going over strategies on laying siege to Fort Merceus.”

Byleth had heard much about Fort Merceus, but never got to travel there himself. Him and Jeralt were usually up in Alliance or Kingdom territory, and in the few instances they got jobs in the Empire did they travel through the northwest roads near Arianrhod rather than pass through The Great Bridge and further south towards the capital. However, that would only mean he had to take extra precautions to ensure they made it out of the so-called “Impregnable Fortress” alive if they were moving forward with the plan to conquer it.

But Byleth wouldn’t dare make any moves without Claude or Dimitri. With the three of them together, their ideas were full proof. So of course he came to collect them before he himself went to attend the meeting.

At the news he had given to them, however, the Alliance leader was the one to release a heavy sigh.

“Alright, we’ll be there in a moment. I’ve got a couple of ideas that, and don’t be so surprised at this, actually work. And trust me, I know. I’ve done it before,” the duke said.

“In that case, I’ll let everyone know you’ll be there in just a moment,” Byleth replied. “And afterwards you can take all the time you need to rest, Claude.”

Claude scoffed with a confident grin. “Nah, don’t worry about me, Teach. I’ll be fine. Had more than enough time to rest, if you ask me.”

“Claude, you were stabbed with a sword through your gut, I don’t think-”

“Minor details, minor! Look, if I turn out to not be fine after all, you guys can send me to Manuela and Marianne and give me a good scolding, yeah? Sound fair?”

To that, Byleth rolled his eyes with a groan. “You cross way too many dangerous bridges for my liking.”

“I’m in agreement with the professor,” Dimitri said. “Try not to push yourself, Khalid...”

“I’ll be fine. I swear it.”

“You say that until you’re six feet underground from yet another stab wound...” The professor let out a small huff before turning on his heel. “Just be in the war room in ten minutes. I’ll see you both there.”

Without another word, Byleth rushed out of the room to leave the pair to their own devices, all while shaking his head. Claude was going to be the death of him one day, he just knew it.

And knowing his streak, the professor could only hope that never turned out to be the case.

* * *

“There you two are! We were wondering when you’d show up.”

“And Claude’s finally awake, too!”

“Indeed. Glad to have you back, brilliant leader man,” Judith said in greeting, making the duke roll his eyes.

“Well, I’m glad to be back,” he said. “But I hear we’ve got some plans to take on Fort Merceus. Mind filling us in?”

“Of course. With the Kingdom now back under our control, and a few western lords still slowly declaring their fealty, we decided to move ahead with the march to Enbarr,” Rodrigue explained. “But in order to get there, we would need to pass through Fort Merceus. Not only that, but it would show the Empire our power if we manage to conquer the impregnable fortress.”

“Yes, that would make sense...”

“I’m willing to have some of my soldiers go on a scouting mission so we can start strategizing,” Judith offered.

“No, there’s too much of a risk,” Claude said. “It’s better if we try to sneak in disguised as Imperial soldiers before we open the gates for reinforcements to bust through. From there, the fort will be easy pickings.”

The duke received a confused glance from the king beside him. “Reinforcements? Since when was this plan enacted?” he asked.

“Just a little before Claude was attacked at Gronder,” the professor answered. “We agreed that, even with our numbers, we’d still need all the help we can get if we were going to take on the Empire.”

“But we retook the Kingdom, and we’ve advanced so far into Imperial territory that the Alliance lords don’t need to declare allegiance in fear of being invaded,” Ingrid pointed out.

“Yeah. You don’t think they’ve got a secret stash of soldiers just sitting in the capital, do you?” Sylvain asked.

“Actually, yeah. I’ve noticed that a couple of their soldiers weren’t wearing traditional Imperial armor during our last fight with them. I don’t know who they are-” A total lie. “-but I bet Her Majesty has a whole lot more of them just sitting on the benches until she feels she’s been cornered. I’m not willing to risk it, so I’ve called in for some help.”

“And just who did you call?” It was Felix who demanded an answer, and from the looks of things everyone else was curious too. However, Claude easily brushed them all off.

“Don’t worry about that. Just know they’ll be fighting by our side from now on, and with their help invading the Empire will be like taking candy from a baby.”

“If it makes the battle that much easier, I’m not one to complain.” Judith let out a sigh. “I don’t know what scheme you’re cooking up, boy, but knowing you it’s crazy enough to work.”

“Agreed,” Dimitri said. “But if we’re going to be wearing disguises, how will they know we aren’t the enemy? And where will we acquire the material?”

“Oh! Oh! I’ve gotten pretty good at sewing!” Hilda exclaimed. The strong woman was practically bouncing in her seat from the excitement coursing through her veins. “I’ll just need a little help in order to make enough for the whole army. Marianne, you up to the challenge?”

“Sure,” Marianne replied, her voice soft but determined. “Though I don’t think I’m very good, I’ll give it a shot.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“And I can write a letter to the fort pretending to be reinforcements to prepare for the attack,” Ignatz suggested.

“That’s brilliant, Ignatz!” Raphael cheered. “Maybe we can convince them that we have extra food and supplies too?”

“That works. But just to make the work a little lighter, shouldn’t some of us stay behind and wait to pair up with reinforcements?” Linhardt asked. “After all, some of us are a little too recognizable to sneak through. I mean... How many Imperial soldiers honestly have an eyepatch and are six feet tall? No offense, Your Majesty.”

“Yeah. Not to mention, some of us  _ are _ from the Empire. I doubt no one’s gonna at least know who we are,” Caspar added.

“They’ll definitely recognize you guys, as well as Ferdinand, Petra, and Dorothea.” Claude hummed, deep in thought. After a few short moments to reevaluate the finer details of his plan, he declared, “Alright. Whoever is likely to stand out among us should stay once we infiltrate the fort. You guys will be the look out for reinforcements. They’ll be dressed a little differently from common Alliance soldiers, but they’re our allies nonetheless.”

“In that case, I think we have a plan,” Judith said.

“Right. That’s it for now, then,” Rodrigue announced. “Everyone should do well to prepare as soon as possible.”

“My thoughts exactly. We need this to go off without a hitch. So let’s get to it!”

The room was filled with murmurs of agreement, everyone individually getting up as their chairs screeched from the movement before the room was almost completely emptied. As everyone was piling out of the war room—save for the king, duke, and professor—Mercedes slowly approached the trio that remained where they stood.

“Hello you three!” she said in greeting, her smiling radiating the motherly warmth nearly everyone in the monastery associated her with. “Claude, it’s so nice to see that you’re awake now! How have your wounds been healing?”

“Eh, I’m not a hundred percent yet, but by the time we invade Fort Merceus I should be back in top shape,” the duke replied. “Was there something you needed, by the way? Usually you just leave to help Annette with something after the meeting.”

“Ah, yes. I was actually wondering... Have any of you seen my brother around?” she asked.

There was collective silence among the three, with all of them eyeing one another in curious confusion before their gazes set back on the worried Mercedes before them. It was Dimitri that spoke up first, clearing his throat to ease the awkward and tense atmosphere.

“Your...brother?” he asked. “Forgive me, Mercedes, but I was not aware you had a brother. Would you care to tell us who he is?”

“Oh, but you’ve all met him before!” she explained. “It was only recently, but on one of my journeys to Abyss to catch up with Constance I bumped into him. She said the professor and Claude were hiding him there with the Ashen Wolves for years, but I’ve noticed he continuously tries to avoid me. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen one another... I just want to make sure he’s doing well after all that’s happened.”

“Wait... The Death Knight—Jeritza—is your...brother?” Claude asked. Now  _ that _ was something new to him. Mercedes had also met her end at Gronder, and so the duke never got the pleasure to know the woman beyond their time together as students at the Officer’s Academy.

“Yes. He and I were separated when my mother fled from the Empire. We wanted to take him with us, but...” The gentle soul shook her head, her expression turning dejected. “Nevermind that. Have you seen him?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Byleth replied. “Have you talked to Constance or any of the other Ashen Wolves? I know Yuri’s kept a closer eye on him than anyone.”

“I haven’t seen them yet today either. Though... I suppose I can travel down to Abyss one more time and see if he’s moved on there while I was away. Do you think he’s gone to rejoin the Empire?”

“I doubt it,” Dimitri said. “Last we spoke, he said he had no intentions of siding with them ever again. That his only aim was to fight the professor. Beyond that, he cares little for anything else it seems. If his words are true, I’m sure he’s still around the monastery somewhere.”

“That’s good at least...”

“Yeah. But we’ll be on the lookout for him. Just be careful, alright?”

“Of course. Thank you,” she said. “Oh, and you three be careful as well. I’ve managed to catch him long enough to have a talk a couple of times, but he seems...different from how I remember. He’s not like himself. So please, be cautious if you do stumble upon him. Especially you, Professor.”

Byleth gave the woman a nod, smiling with as much solace as he could muster. “I’ll be alright, Mercedes. Take Annette with you if you’re going down there. If not her, at least one other person. If he’s acting as strange as you claim, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Oh, I will,” she answered. “Thank all of you, truly. And good luck with the plan! Let me know if you need anything!”

With that, Mercedes gave a wave and a smile as she left the room. Now it was just the three of them again, and both the professor and the king turned to Claude with curious faces.

“If he’s not going to rejoin the Empire, it’s quite possible he’ll still cause a bit of trouble,” Byleth pointed out.

“Yeah... Guess we’ll just need to keep a close eye on him if what Mercedes says is true. He was always...weird, even as just an enemy. I can’t imagine how he is now that we call him our ally,” Claude said with a sigh. “I’ll find Yuri later and let him know what’s up. Hopefully we won’t need to do much about him. For now, let’s focus on our attack on Fort Merceus, cause there’s something neither of you are gonna like...”

“And that would be?”

Claude couldn’t help the frown on his face as he placed his hands on the table, his expression hard as he told the other two men, “The Empire’s got one last trick up their sleeve for this battle, and it’s  _ not _ gonna be pretty...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short, mediocre update in my opinion, but it is what it is.
> 
> Now bloopers for this one. Sorry... See you guys in the next one!


	47. Javelins of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time to invade Fort Merceus has come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I started getting into the Beastars manga ever since I heard Season 2 of the anime wasn't coming until 2021, so to avoid spoilers I started binge reading. I also caught a small cold since getting it's closer to winter where I live. This happens a lot during this time of year, so expect updates to be slow until the weather starts getting warmer because I always have the unfortunate luck of getting sick, like, five times a week thanks to the shitty the insulation in my apartment. That's the one thing I hate about cold weather.
> 
> Also, shameless plug-in, if ya'll want to follow my art account where I post my OCs [here it is.](https://instagram.com/author.kun_666?igshid=hp505huu3fy1)
> 
> Enjoy!

The letter was delivered without fail to the fort, and with enough help Hilda and Marianne managed to make just enough disguises for half of the army. That was more than enough for them to enter Fort Merceus without detection. Ignatz made sure to include as many details as possible without giving their position away as well. When the time came for them to approach the fort, everything was prepared.

The army stood a little ways off from Fort Merceus, hidden by the foliage of some nearby woods so as to not blow their cover.

“Alright. Reinforcements should be here any minute now. Here’s the plan: we’re going to approach the fort as Imperial soldiers, and once our allies arrive you two will charge ahead and pretend you’re going to attack us,” Claude explained.

Byleth nodded in reply. “That way they’ll let you in without a second thought.”

“Exactly.”

“There’s just one little issue, though,” Judith spoke up. “I sent out reconnaissance just in case the Empire was one step ahead of us to survey the area, and they’ve got some gray-haired old man defending the fort. Either he’s a rookie general that just climbed the ranks, or the Empire’s getting really desperate.”

Claude felt his muscles stiffen. “That must be Thales... Don’t worry about him. Once we’re inside, Teach and Dimitri will be coming with me to handle him. But when we do, we need everyone else to evacuate immediately.”

“Evacuate? Do you think they’re going to try to corner us?” Gilbert asked.

“No,” Dimitri answered. “If we did, we would have taken a different approach to invading Fort Merceus.”

“So wouldn’t it be better that we all work together? I mean... If they’re not going to surround us, we would have a better chance of beating whoever this guy is if we worked together.” Sylvain stepped in.

“Let’s just say the three of us have a score to settle with him,” Claude told the rest of the group. “It’s a long story, but once this war is over we promise to explain it.”

“You and your secrets... Alright, I’ll bite,” Leonie sighed. “But don’t go trying to get yourselves killed, yeah? The Kingdom just got their king back, and we don’t need you or the Professor dying on us either.”

“Trust us, Leonie. That is the last thing any of us want and what we’re exactly trying to avoid,” Byleth replied. “But he’s too powerful, and we don’t want to risk any of you getting hurt. Or even worse: killed.”

“Well, that’s settled then,” Judith said. “I’ll get the troops ready.”

“And I’ll go with our armies to wait for reinforcements with His Majesty.”

“Right. See you guys on the other side.”

Gilbert and Judith nodded their heads before turning to leave to their duties, the others following them until the trio were left alone once again. Dimitri turned to glance at Claude before reaching out to him. He grabbed for the duke’s hand before lifting it to his lips and bowing so he may place a kiss on his knuckles.

“If anything goes wrong, and we don’t reach you in time, promise me you’ll retreat,” the king pleaded. “You have already risked your life on more than one occasion. Let us not add to the list.”

Claude couldn’t help the snicker rising in his throat despite the light blush on his face from Dimitri’s gesture. “I’ll be fine. This plan worked once before. And though Thales is at the forefront this time and not the Death Knight, I don’t think he wants me dead just yet.”

“Right. If that is truly Thales up there... Then my uncle was likely a simple Agarthan this whole time...”

“Hey, think of it this way: you were at least able to bring justice to those he hurt. And we’ll do the same for those who suffered under Thales.”

“Yes, but we’ll never get it done if we just stand around here,” Byleth interjected, the man crossing his arms over his chest and leaning towards one side. “Claude, go with your soldiers to meet with the fort. We’ll approach as soon as reinforcements arrive.”

Claude moved his gaze over to the professor, giving him a nod of the head. “Good luck to you both,” he said.

“And to you as well. Let’s go, Dimitri.”

“Coming, Professor.”

Dimitri followed Byleth towards the rest of the army, and Claude was left to walk their troops over to the fort. The duke watched them leave before turning on his heel and heading out, calling to his soldiers for them to begin their march.

If they were careful, they might just make it out of this alive.

* * *

Dimitri watched carefully as Claude and the others walked casually into the fort, the gates opening slowly for them. Their reinforcements should have arrived by now...

The king was beginning to feel his body grow more and more anxious. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing tall, and his muscles were more tense than they had ever been. Not to mention the grip on his lance was tightening, and were it any normal weapon he was sure it would have snapped by now. They needed to make their move now, they would have no other opportunity, but how could they when the others had yet to arrive?

However, as Dimitri’s frustrations began to rise, a sound from the near distance behind them snapped the king’s attention away from the fort and towards what appeared to be another large army charging straight at them. Their uniforms were yellow—like that of Alliance soldiers—but the alarmingly large amount of wyvern riders told the king they were from anywhere but the dukedom. Then, as the figurehead of all these troops came within his line of sight, Dimitri suddenly understood.

“Professor,” Dimitri whispered to his teacher, “I knew Claude was from Almyra, but... Had I known he was close friends with Nader the Undefeated, perhaps I would have let my soldiers rest for the month.”

Byleth turned to the king. “So you do know him?” he asked.

Dimitri nodded. “I have never seen the man, much like anyone from Fodlan, but his might and skill was impressive enough for it to travel all the way to even Faerghus. Despite the Alliance’s qualms with Almyra, we often held warriors like him with high regard. But how did he manage to cross Fodlan’s Locket without alerting Goneril territory?”

“I’m sure Claude has an explanation for that,” the professor told him. “But for now, let’s group up with him and head out towards the fort.”

Byleth didn’t wait for Dimitri’s answer. Rather, the professor charged ahead to meet with the Almyran troops and waved straight ahead at Nader. The warrior took this as a signal and urged his men forward with a mighty battle cry. The soldiers, now knowing for sure they were in the right place, rushed forward with more vigor than any fighter Dimitri had ever seen.

The king turned to his own troops and gave them the signal, and together the three forces charged ahead towards the fort just as they had planned.

It took no time at all to catch up with Claude’s battalion. They met up just a little ways through the gates of Fort Merceus, the two seemingly-opposing armies facing off as one relentlessly ran at the other with roars as louder and fiercer than any beast known to mankind.

Then, through the sea of bodies, came Claude. With a confident smile and the movement of the very animal that gave his academy house its namesake, the duke pulled out his bow and shot at their troops. At first, the act confused the king, but when he heard something whoosh! past his ears did it make sense.

He watched as Claude’s arrow and the stray that just zoomed by him clash before both fell to the ground. Then, the duke dropped his bow in favor of taking up his sword and charged at them with a ferocious cry. Behind him did someone make a similar move.

Dimitri turned in time to see Nader jump off his wyvern, unsheathe his own blade, and then run past him at Claude. Just before they met in the center, the latter jumped high into the air and brought his blade down towards the Almyran general. Their swords clashed, steel grinding against steel, before they were both thrown back by the force, their feet skidding against the stone. The two were left panting from exhaustion as the whole of the armies gathered together at the entrance of the fort, wide eyes from every direction staring in shock and wonder.

As the dust settled, and Dimitri and Byleth were able to catch up with them, Nader sheathed his sword again and approached Claude slowly with a warm smile.

“I see your skills haven’t dulled yet, kiddo,” he said.

In return, Claude let out a short laugh. “What did you expect?” he said. “It’s good to see you after all this time.”

Now, it was Claude who placed his sword back in its scabbard. He looked over at the king and professor, a mischievous grin on his face, before he turned to his troops.

“Everyone, listen up! From now on, the Almyran forces will be fighting by our side!” the duke declared. “We’ll work as one! And we will bring this fort down together!”

“Ya here that!?” Nader shouted, his voice booming through the crevices of the buildings that surrounded them, making it echo loud enough for all to hear. “Now let’s show these Empire weaklings how it’s done!”

Almost immediately, a roar erupted from the crowd around them, and the army was suddenly filled with more vigor and excitement for the upcoming battle than before. All that was left was to take this place over. From there, Enbarr was only a few steps away...

Dimitri only wondered where they would go from there...

* * *

Maneuvering through the fort was practically a walk through the park. It was unsettling just how easy the three of them were able to bypass nearly all of the enemy’s troops stationed around the fort in order to get to Thales. Their plan  _ was _ simple—everyone else was to distract the rest of the fort while Dimitri, Byleth, and Claude went after the Agarthans’ leader—but this... It was too much of a coincidence for it to have been  _ this _ easy. To just have him  _ right there _ in their line of sight.

And when it came to these bastards, Claude hated coincidences.

Still, just in case, Byleth sent out a message to everyone to retreat as soon as they could before they approached the mage. Though there was hesitancy in their allies’ expressions, their army slowly fled out of the fort, drawing their enemy out with them. Now it was just three against one.

Thales waited for them by the southern end of the fort on an elevated platform just before the gates. The man—adorned in his furred cape and black-gold armor—turned to the trio with a wicked grin. Byleth appeared to hesitate as they walked closer, weapons in hand. Claude wondered if he and the mage had crossed paths before in this life. He would have to ask later.

“So,” the blank-eyed man said, “you’ve finally come to greet me, have you?”

“We know you’re the one behind all of this, Thales. Just give yourself up so this war can end quickly.”

“Ah, but I’m afraid even if I did, that young woman would continue her conquest. Her power and will alone are enough for us to see our goals through.”

“Bold of you to even assume Edelgard would still side with you bastards once you’re dead,” Claude growled. His hands were rigid as they held Failnaught. He had to be prepared for any tricks the other might have up his sleeve. “Without you, the rest of you Slitherers would scatter across Fodlan with no real way to regroup your numbers. It wouldn’t be long until you’re completely wiped out.”

“Right. You’d know that more than anyone, wouldn’t you, Khalid?” Thales chuckled.

Before the duke could retort, it was Byleth who stepped forward, brandishing the Sword of the Creator. “We already know who he is. Whatever mind tricks you people think you have left, you can forget it. We’d never turn our backs on our friends. Time traveler or not.”

There was a smirk on the mage’s face, his eyes narrowing and his face contorting into what Claude could only guess was amusement.

“Then I suppose it’s perfectly acceptable that he’s abandoned all of you for a second chance, yes? What a strange friendship you all have...”

“Abandon?” Dimitri hissed, his body already moving to thrust Areadbhar forward in threat. “Khalid would never abandon his friends! Just who the hell do you think you are? To stoop to such low levels to try to get us to betray him... I ought to sever your limbs and crush your skull beneath my boot for your cowardice!”

“That is where you are mistaken.  _ I _ am not the coward. But, rather, your friend here might be,” Thales said. “Perhaps even ‘fool’ would be the better term for it. I mean, who in their right minds would even think of turning back the clock after all the hard work they put forward in saving an entire continent?”

Claude, having enough of Thales beating around the bush, bellowed in frustrated fury, “What are you talking about? I didn’t choose to come back. Nor did I even want to.”

“Didn’t you?”

The silence that followed was deafening, constricting even. Thales was now staring straight at him, his emerald green eyes meeting the stark white of the mage’s, and every muscle in his body turned stiff. As if he were prey staring down the jaws of death as his predator prepared to feast upon his flesh. A mix of fear, anger, hatred, and many other emotions he couldn’t name filled his mind and heart, and suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood as his gaze wandered down to Thales’s smirk.

The mage shouted to them, grinning wide, “The will of those closest to the beast is stronger than anything in this world, even the hands of time itself.” Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he waved his hand to summon a spell. One that Claude was all-too familiar with.

The duke’s eyes blew open wide as panic finally settled in.

“We gotta leave.  _ Now _ !” he said firmly, already spinning around to run away from the blast zone.

“But Claude!” Byleth called after him. “What about-?”

“He’s already summoned them! We need to get the fuck out of here  _ now _ or we’ll  _ die _ !”

Claude didn’t bother to look back as he ran. He trusted that Byleth and Dimitri had enough sense in them to know what he was talking about and high-tail it out of there. Thales likely had already flooded the scene as well. It didn’t matter, though. All he was concerned about was getting everyone to safety. He had seen the devastation of those javelins of light—the damage they could do—and it terrified him knowing just how easily they could be killed by the blasts. Or, if they managed to survive, be crushed to death beneath the rubble that was left in the aftermath.

By the time the three of them managed to make it just outside the fort’s gates where they had come from, Claude could already hear the blasts echoing in the sky. His head instinctively turned—as did everyone else’s—to see the lights raining down on the fort. Claude kept running.

The explosion was something else. It had been so long since he’d witnessed it that Claude completely forgot what it was like to witness one happen right before his eyes. His mind was rattled. He could not hear, and he could barely see as towers and bricks collapsed all around him, threatening to hit him on the head and take him to meet his maker. All he could do was feel: the blood rushing in his ears, the smaller pieces of rubble cutting him, the thick air of smoke brushing his senses. There was likely nothing left where Fort Mercues once stood just mere moments ago...

When the army rendezvoused on the hill by the fort, it seemed everyone had made it out alright. There were some with injuries but only as a result of the fierce battle beforehand. Everyone was attempting to catch their breaths, and when the trio rushed to meet with the others there was a big rush of worried excitement.

“Claude!” “Professor!” “Your Majesty!”

“Thank the Goddess, are you three alright?”

“We’re fine,” Byleth reassured them. “Is everyone else okay?”

“We managed to escape just before the place blew up,” Sylvain explained.

“Just what in the fuck  _ was _ that?” Felix scowled. “We all could’ve gotten killed!”

“Felix, calm down,” Dimitri told his friend. “We don’t have all the answers now-” The king did not know when he had become so good at lying, and he was sure Claude and the professor could say the same. “-but once we gather our bearings I’m sure we can figure this out. Right, Claude?”

Claude was still spacing out when Dimitri had called his name. His eyes were trained on the remains of Fort Mercues, his expression giving away just how far from this whole situation his mind was, but he was thankfully able to hide the small jolt of surprise that came with hearing the king call to him.

“Uh, yeah, we... We’ll figure it out. Even if we have to ask Her Majesty for answers,” he replied.

“For now,” Byleth proclaimed, “we should rest. Today has been...difficult for all of us, I’m sure. Let’s return to the monastery, get everyone patched up and fed, and then we can figure out what to do from here.”

“On it. I’ll go tell the others.”

“So will I.”

“Good. Now, let’s get to it.”

“Yes, sir!”

With the others rushing to tell the others to fall back, Byleth was given the chance to turn back to check on Claude. His eyes still seemed glued to the fort, and the professor could only sigh before walking up to the duke.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. I...”

Byleth rolled his eyes. “Come on. Even Dimitri was a better liar than you back there.” For now, the professor ignored the small “hey!” emitting from the king. “We knew this would happen. But I didn’t think it would have this big of an impact on you. I mean... You were the one to see it happen before any of us.”

“Yeah, but...” Claude let out a sigh. “I guess it’s just been awhile. I forgot just how...bad they end up making things look. We really could’ve died back there...”

“But we didn’t. Thanks to you.”

“But what if I’m not able to calculate their next move?” the duke asked, his voice suddenly turning frantic. “What if they end up one step ahead, just like five years ago? My impulses could end up getting everyone killed. Then getting sent back in time would’ve been for nothing!”

“Claude,” Byleth said, his own tone growing dark and low in sternness, “half of us wouldn’t be alive  _ right now _ if it weren’t for you. Stop underestimating yourself. Sheesh. You really are a different Claude, aren’t you? It doesn’t matter how much more they know. You’ll come up with a scheme ten times greater than theirs. It’s your thing.”

“But, Teach-”

“Butts are for taking shits. Now come on ‘Master Tactician’. Let’s figure out our next move.” Byleth then looked over at Dimitri. “Drag him if you have to,” he said. “I’m not letting my students die so easily—physically or emotionally. So let’s get moving.”

The professor did not wait for an answer before he started moving again. At first, he thought he had been too harsh on Claude. Especially as the further he walked away from him and the king, the farther the distance that grew between them. Guilt slowly began to plague him, eating at his heart, pleading with him to turn around, apologize, and give a proper speech to the duke.

But, with the sound of feet moving along the grass behind him, Byleth could not help but feel a smell sting of pride swell in his chest. He looked back over his shoulder at the pair, and saw Dimitri and Claude walking side-by-side. Even better: Claude was smiling again. It was obviously forced, for it didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was better than nothing. The professor chalked it up to feeling tired, for one reason or other. Anyone would be after all the man had gone through. He would apologize later. For now, they had to focus on getting to safety before Thales thought to blow them to smithereens again.

Still, Byleth began to wonder if that mage was the same man who had knocked him into the ravine five years ago. If he was, then just what were the Agarthans planning? And what the hell did he have to do with it?


	48. Divine Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude is left wondering just what Thales's words could possibly mean. Byleth approaches him with a possible answer.

The march back to Garreg Mach was long and exhausting. There were more injured than those who could heal them, and there was a collective cloud of horror hovering over everyone’s head after what had happened at Fort Merceus. Never before had any of them seen something like that: powerful beams of light just falling from the sky and completely obliterating what was once the strongest fort in all of Fodlan, rivaling even the Silver Maiden that was Arianrhod up in Faerghus territory.

Claude was, even to his surprise, perhaps the most affected by such a spectacle. He thought having seen it plenty of times before would at least make him immune to the shock that accompanied him the first time. But he supposed he was wrong. So very wrong.

When they finally reached the monastery, everyone either took the time to rest or train until they could begin to prepare for their eventual siege of Enbarr. Claude was grouped with the latter. He gave orders to Nader and Judith to step in for him at any meetings and report back to him so he could figure himself out. Well, more like they had bullied him into taking a break to do just that. The duke was more than willing to continue with meetings and war councils, but Judith was the first to insist he take some time off after what had just transpired. Nader eventually joined the argument, siding with the Hero of Dapnhel, alongside Byleth. No doubt, if Dimitri wasn’t at his own meetings, the king would likely have tagged in to create a four against one full assault.

But, despite his frustrations, as the days passed, Claude had actually felt glad that they forced him to relax. Especially since what Thales had said was causing him more stress than he originally thought.

What could he have possibly meant by “the will of those closest to the beast?” Who even was “the beast”? Could he be talking about the Goddess? It was possible, considering he knew of their strong hatred for the Goddess and her children, which was why they didn’t hesitate to slaughter them and consume their blood to gain incredible power. But even then, Claude had absolutely no connection to her whatsoever. He had only heard of the teachings of the Church when he came to Fodlan roughly six years ago, and even after coming here did he never once actually talk to her. So there’s no way Thales’s accusation could be true. Especially since Claude had never asked to be sent anywhere: neither explicitly or through implications.

The only thing remotely close to a wish to turn back time were his regrets. All the what ifs that crossed his mind throughout the war and well beyond. But even if those could be tied to wanting to go back, how would the Goddess even hear him? He had only ever prayed to her a handful of times if only to show he was willing to accommodate himself to Fodlan’s customs and religion, and that had ended well after he left his position as Duke of the Alliance to claim his place as King of Almyra. And if she was in Byleth’s head the entire time there was no way that would’ve worked. So how could any of it have been possible?

It was late into the evening when Claude was mulling over just what the Agarthan could possibly mean. He had long lost the will to try to sleep, as every effort he made turned out fruitless, and he was far too exhausted to train the night away. So he stuck to standing by himself on one of the balconies of the first floor cathedral, looking over the horizon to the south. They were so close now...

But the duke’s solitude was short-lived. The echo of footsteps stepping across the marble floors caught his attention, and he turned to see Byleth standing in his ethereal garbs still. He had completely forgotten that, since taking Rhea’s as leader of the Church for the time being, he was gifted special robes to wear in battle. While it was nowhere near Claude’s personal tastes, he had to admit it did match the professor’s teal hair and matching eyes, making him appear like the Goddess herself.

When the professor approached him, Claude gave his usual, easy smile.

“Hey, Teach. Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked.

Byleth shook his head. “No. Alois was just telling me the rest of the Kingdom had finally fallen into place with the help of the Knights. All that’s left is to take control of the capital, and the war will be over... Sort of.”

“Right. We should probably find Hubert’s letter as soon as we defeat him and Her Majesty so we at least have an excuse for knowing about the Agarthans.”

“But that’s not what I came to talk to you about,” the professor said. “I wanted to check in on you. We’ve told you to take a break so you can ease your mind in preparation for the next battle. But you only seem more stressed out.”

“That’s because I just can’t get a clue of what that crazy old bastard was talking about,” Claude replied. The duke sighed as his gaze returned to the edge of the night sky. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. Gah! Nothing’s ever really bothered me this much before. All I know is that what he said has something to do with the Goddess. Teach, what do you know about her?”

“Other than the fact she lived in my head since I was a kid? Nothing much. I used to only ever see her in my dreams before she manifested almost like a ghost back when I was first hired to teach at the monastery.” Byleth’s eyes also traveled up to the stars above them as he began to be lost in thought. “She would talk to me about almost anything, really, but regarding her stance as a goddess she could hardly remember a thing. Much like how I hardly remember my age.”

“ _Do_ you remember your age at all?”

“Nope.”

“Figured as much...”

“But that was basically my relationship to her. We shared my mind all the way up until she gave me her powers to escape Solon’s trap,” Byleth explained. “After that... I couldn’t hear her voice anymore, no matter how many times I called out to her. Though sometimes I feel as if she still talks to me, but I can never hear her directly. Like when I woke up after these past five years, I swore I could hear her still scolding me.”

“Is there any way I could talk to her?” Claude asked. “I’d like to have a word with her if what Thales said is true. If not, then a _very_ strongly worded letter.”

Byleth let out a small chuckle at the joke. “Likely not. She could only send me so far back in time, just enough to save one of your lives in battle, so I doubt she could send you back more than a day, let alone a couple of years,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess that would make sense. You never really told me that part, but oh well.”

“Your best bet would be looking into what had taken place before you were sent back. Retrace your steps to see if anything could have triggered it,” the professor suggested. “Did you feel any particular way about the war or after it happened?”

“Nothing beyond a few regrets over the lives that were lost,” Claude answered. “I mean... I was happily married, I survived the worst war Fodlan had seen in thousands of years, and I finally achieved my dream of bringing the world one step closer to unifying and having different people coexist in peace.”

“Are you sure that is all? Did you not feel any anger, sorrow, any wish that things could have been different?” Byleth asked.

Claude paused for a moment, thinking quietly to himself. He closed his eyes as the memories consumed him. Fire, smoke, corpses and streams of red blood along green grass, the hard and cold gazes of his peers turned enemies, and it all vanished in a flash just as it always did. And just as before he felt the familiar sting of rage bubble up inside him.

“Actually,” he said, “I was pretty upset. No... I was fucking pissed. At Edelgard, at the Church, even at Dimitri at one point. But really? I was angry with _myself._ If I had known from the beginning, I felt I could’ve done something. I remember how badly I wished there was something—anything—I could’ve done to save my friends. Even long after it had happened, we all still felt the pain, and I think I would’ve given anything to fix it if I could.”

“And did I know anything about this? Surely you’d talk to your husband about these things. I mean... That’s what married couples do, right?”

Shit. He knew? It was likely Dimitri who had told him, but that didn’t matter now. That was something they would deal with later.

“Yeah. You were with me almost every step of the way. In fact... I’m pretty sure my grief was what brought us together,” Claude confessed. “Everyone else... I didn’t trust they’d let me heal as I needed. But you were by my side the entire time, always distant enough to allow me space but close enough to hold me when I felt I was going to fall. You were there every time I visited their graves. In fact, we had just visited His Majesty’s before I was sent back. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Claude,” Byleth said to him, “don’t you think it’s possible that I could’ve done it?”

The duke’s eyes drew open wide as he turned to the professor, his jaw slacked in confused shock at such a statement. Then, he scoffed.

“I don’t see any reason why you’d do such a thing.”

“Well, if I know anything about myself, I probably would feel guilty knowing there’s not much I can do to help how you feel. If your grief was as painful as you just described it, then I see no reason why I wouldn’t grant you such a wish.”

“But you said it yourself: you’re not able to turn back time past a couple of minutes. It’s much more believable that the Goddess had done it.”

“Maybe. But I had actually tried turning time back so far once Sothis and I merged our powers,” he explained. “Thales knew Sothis was gone when she gave me her power. The only other one with a similar ability to her would be me, so he was likely referring to my future self when he talked about ‘the beast’. I’m not sure how I could’ve done it, but there’s no other possible explanation if his claims hold any truth to them.”

“Are you sure we aren’t just grasping at straws here, Teach?” Claude asked. “I mean... I just don’t see how it’s possible, even as an accident.”

“Well it’s all we really have based on the evidence. Besides, what are the chances it was just some accident on the part of the other gods, assuming they even exist? If anything, I’d see this as more of a blessing.”

Now _that_ Claude had to laugh at. It was a sudden outburst, one he didn’t mean to have, but it happened all the same. The duke was thrown into a short, giggling fit before having calmed down enough to speak without a chuckle between his sentences.

“A blessing, huh? More like some sick, twisted joke, don’t you think?”

Byleth gave a shrug. “I don’t know. You did manage to accomplish what you wanted here, didn’t you? Everyone is still alive thanks to your efforts. All that’s left is to defeat the last of our enemies, reform the Church while you take your place as king, do some negotiations, and that’s the end of it. Heck, Dimitri will likely lead Fodlan in our place this time around—I reckon the Kingdom will still want their king after all—and your relationship might actually make the whole thing easier.”

For a moment, Claude said nothing. His face twisted into what looked like pleasant surprise before the duke turned his head so Byleth couldn’t see. But the professor knew he had hit the mark when another defeated sigh emitted from his companion followed by another soft chuckle.

“Shit. You’re right... Guess I never saw it like that.” Claude turned back to the professor, this time wearing a smile that truly reached his eyes. “Even if I didn’t get to talk to Sothis to get my answers, your words of wisdom have definitely eased my mind, even just a little bit. I guess it doesn’t matter at this point how I was sent back, or by who. All that counts now is that I’m—no,  _ we’re _ almost finished with what we started. And I’m willing to see it through to the end if you are.”

Of course, Byleth offered a grin in return. “Of course. As annoying as you are, you’re still my student and closest friend. And Claude...”

“Yeah, Teach?”

“I’m proud of you. I mean that.”

“Professor. Claude.”

Claude and Byleth, a little startled from the sudden call, both shifted their gaze to the approaching figure of the king. Dimitri was dressed in a cleaner suit of armor, one that was stark white with obsidian trims that shaped the Blaiddyd crest over his breastplate accompanied by a new furred cloak with similar markings on the inner side. It was likely given to him by Rodrigue or Gilbert. They were both discussing how Dimitri should now look more “regal” as they put it since he was to ascend the throne once they toppled the Empire and its influence across Fodlan. It was a good look, Claude had to admit, but he felt he’d just never get over how much  _ larger _ it made the man look. But there was no time in critiquing the Kingdom’s fashion choices. Dimitri had likely come to discuss something with that. So  _ focus Claude. _

“Ah, Your Majesty chooses to grace us with his presence,” the duke said, an obviously teasing tone in his voice. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Dimitri had to stop himself from rolling his only good eye into the back of his head at Claude’s little jab. “Claude, this is a serious matter. A man had just come forward claiming he and his lord were in a coup involving the Tragedy.”

Claude’s playful demeanor from earlier immediately vanished. His smile fell into a concerned frown, and he looked at the king with sympathy.

“Were they?” he asked.

“I can’t say for certain, but... His evidence lined up well enough. We’re still figuring out his punishment. For the meantime, he’ll be rotting away in a cell where he belongs.”

“Do you feel any closure from the experience?” Byleth asked. “You’ve caught the ones who did it. Surely that means something, right?”

Dimitri shook his head. “I fear I may never feel at peace after what had happened that day regardless of whether or not we found the ones responsible. I... I know that now. I still feel the weight of their souls on me, even after what that man had said. Even more so with the idea that my stepmother...”

Dimitri had taken a pause as his gaze averted that of his allies, and Claude, clever as ever, immediately connected the dots.

“She had something to do with it, didn’t she?”

“That was his confession, yes. Still. I could hardly believe she would go to such lengths. He said it was in effort to reunite her with her family in the Empire. It’s...difficult to think about.”

To this, Claude really had nothing to say. He wasn’t sure if it was his place. It was likely, considering how close the Adrestian Empire seemed to be with the Agarthans even well before Edelgard was born, but the king had already looked so distraught. It was best they avoided the subject. Wherever the queer consort was, she was gone now. There was no point in trying to get answers that were nearly impossible to find, even for someone like him.

Instead, Claude walked up to Dimitri and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met for a moment, and the former could see the sadness reflecting in the king’s single, ocean blue eye. He then wrapped his arms around Dimitri in a hug, an obvious attempt at comfort, and the other man gratefully accepted the gesture.

“Thank you, truly,” Dimitri whispered, pulling away from Claude’s embrace only a short minute later. “But I feel there are more important matters at hand.”

“What else is there to discuss?” Byleth asked.

“I was thinking... We’re about to lay siege to Enbarr and end this war. But...”

“But?”

“...Claude, remember your idea only a short while ago? How you wanted to talk things through with Edelgard rather than fight?”

Claude, in a moment of confusion, hesitated as he replied, “Uh... Yeah. What about it?” Then, it suddenly hit him. “Oh. Wait, you’re really considering it?”

Dimitri nodded. “Yes. If I am left with no other option but to fight her, then I will. But I’d first like to know her motives, and if she’s willing to work together with us to defeat the Agarthans. Surely if we all work together we could outnumber them.”

“They did clearly need the numbers of the Imperial army to move forward with their plans,” Byleth pointed out. “Otherwise they would have likely started a war a long time ago, or not have even bothered infiltrating places of power across Fodlan if they already had the means to take on all four armies by themselves.”

“It’s definitely worth a shot, but there’s no guarantee she’ll agree to it. But alright. We’ll send out a letter so the two of us can have a little chat with Her Majesty. Just like old times, yeah? And Teach can tag along just in case anything goes wrong.”

“Excellent. I’ll get started on a letter first thing in the morning to send to her.”

“Then it looks like we have a game plan. Now, it’s late, so let’s all get as much rest as we can so we can properly finish this fight.”

The other two nodded in agreement, and the trio broke out to head to their individual rooms for the night.

Enbarr was less than a month away, and before that they would be speaking with Edelgard to see if they could come up with a last-minute alliance. Claude only hoped the cards were in his favor this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I've got some bloopers for all of ya'll. Here we go!
> 
> ____________________
> 
> Thales: *says some cryptic shit*  
> Claude: *immediately just goes to that one meme of the woman looking around with math symbols floating around her head*
> 
> ____________________
> 
> Claude: Teach, you know anything about the Goddess  
> Byleth: *war flashbacks*  
> Byleth not a second later: nah, she's just a weird gremlin who lived in my head
> 
> ____________________
> 
> Claude: idk i don't think i wanted to really get sent back, ya know? Life was pretty good  
> Byleth: *John Cena voice* aRe YoU sUrE aBoUt ThAt
> 
> **alternatively**
> 
> Claude: idk i don't think i wanted to really get sent back, ya know? Life was pretty good  
> Byleth: why the fuck you lying? why you always lying? mmmmm oh my god-  
> Byleth and Sothis: STOP FUCKING LYIN-
> 
> ____________________
> 
> Claude: A blessing, huh? More like some sick, twisted joke.  
> Dimitri, already running from the other side of the monastery: stfu that's my fucking line-
> 
> ___________________
> 
> And that's all folks. See you next time!


	49. Our Chosen Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude, Dimitri, and Byleth pay a visit to Edelgard before the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry this is so late. Things have gotten hectic since the presidential debate and social media has just made me really stressed out, so I haven't gotten much chance to write between that, school work, and trying to find work. But now that things have calmed down some and the workload isn't so much I finally found time to work on this.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one (even if it's a little on the shorter side)!

The day finally comes. Claude is nervous as he stands on the grassy plain, his eyes scanning the horizon looking for that familiar shade of red and her tall shadow. The quiet whistle of the wind makes his ears ring louder than the bell at Garreg Mach. Dimitri and Byleth are by his side, but the thought does little to calm his nerves. Edelgard was smart. Stubborn, but smart, and Hubert was even more cunning. For all they knew, he could have hired assassins hiding in the shadows right this moment without Her Majesty’s knowledge. Anything to protect his precious emperor.

But he feels himself relax a little as he sees them approach, completely alone, but his guard stays up. They were still the enemy, and Edelgard likely knew of him at this point. It was impossible not to with her position as an Imperial leader and the Agarthans’ puppet. Anything could happen.

“Well, well, well. We didn’t think you’d actually show up,” the duke said.

The emperor shook her head. “Call it a mere whim. What did you three wish to discuss?”

Dimitri doesn’t hesitate to step forward. “I’ll get straight to the point. Why did you start this war? There must have been some way to change things without the need for so many needless casualties.”

“It may be hard to believe, but this was the way with the fewest casualties in the end. Don’t you see?”

“It’s hard to when so many people have already lost their lives,” Claude pointed out.

“But with your efforts as well as my own, we’ve managed to avoid that, haven’t we?” the emperor replied. “The longer we took to revolt, the more victims this crooked world would have claimed. I weighed the victims of the war against the victims of the world as it is now, and I chose the former. I believe I have chosen the best path. The  _ only _ path.”

“The best path for who? The people you keep tossing into your ranks who continue to lose their lives for your cause? Or was it the best path for yourself?”

Edelgard’s eyes narrowed at the duke. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but it won’t change my mind.”

“Edelgard,” Byleth said, “we know about what happened to you when you were a child. Claude explained everything to us years ago. We wanted to convince you to join our side before all of this, but you appeared too stubborn to listen.”

“I see. So that’s why you invited me to tea, wasn’t it Professor?”

“But don’t you see, Edelgard? We all want to save Fodlan from those monsters. They’ve done nothing but cause hurt and suffering,” Dimitri explained. “The war only fueled their desires for control. How many people died at their hands? How many were taken prisoner for their sick experiments? Your method won’t change the cycle of the strong dominating the weak.”

“That cycle is the very thing I aim to destroy once this war is over. If after all of this you still believe the weak will be weak, that is only because they are too used to relying on others instead of themselves,” the emperor retorted.

“Yes. Perhaps someone as strong as you are can claim something like that. But you cannot force such beliefs on others. There are those who cannot live without their faith, and those who cannot go on once they lose their reason for living. Your path will not be able to save them.”

“Even if one clings to their faith, the Goddess will never answer them. Countless souls will be lost that way.”

“But isn’t that the point of faith?” Claude asked. “Even if the Goddess never answers or even exists, the fact people believe in her seems to be enough for them. They’re content, sometimes even happy, with the idea that a higher being is looking out for them. Whether it’s true or not. They’re willing to do whatever it takes to gain her favor, and they see no other way to live. Take that away and they’ll be beyond lost.”

“I fail to see your point, Claude,” Edelgard said. “Are you truly suggesting people live in some delusion fantasy? To give them false purpose?”

“What I’m suggesting is that it’s not religion that’s the problem. It’s who controls the system. What Fodlan needs isn’t the eradication of faith. It’s reform. Change. Someone in charge who will give true justice and fairness. Putting yourself up on a pedestal thinking your way of doing things is right isn’t the answer. Especially since your methods have clearly failed to protect the people of Fodlan. Farmers and merchants are suffering from the effects of battle and allegiance between territories.”

“Perhaps. But it doesn’t matter. Someone has got to stand up and end this world’s blood-stained misery!”

“But do you not believe in the power of people joining together to rise up? Humans are weak creatures, but they are also creatures who help each other. They support each other, and together they can find the right path. I have learned that humans are capable of all of that from the professor and from Claude as well.” For a moment, the king’s gaze fell. “In fact, I’ve learned it from nearly everyone in my life.”

Edelgard, despite the somber tone in Dimitr’s voice, scoffed. However, her own face fell as she said to them, “Someone who was fortunate enough to have those things such as yourself will never understand those of us who don’t and perhaps never will should things stay as they are.”

“And that’s why we’re here. Edelgard, we’re offering our hand to you now. You can either take it or watch as the Empire falls along with yourself.” Claude took a step forward, extending his arm towards the emperor. His eyes held a soft glow, and everything in his expression spoke of pleas. “We can help if you would just let us. Neither of us want the other to die. That was the whole reason I came back here: to save everyone. You included, if it was possible. We can see to it Fodlan is changed for the better  _ together _ . So... What do you say?”

For a moment, Edelgard stands quiet. Her eyes slowly roamed to Claude’s hand and remained glued there for almost an eternity. Her face lifted in surprise, then fell again with uncertainty. The entire time, Hubert is watching closely. His eyes scan between the three commanders before going back to Edelgard, then to Claude’s extended hand. Everyone waited with bated breaths as Edelgard seemed to slowly inch forward, her own hand rising and reaching out to grab Claude’s. Then, just as their fingers brushed, she stops and retracts it.

Edelgard’s eyes are closed as she lifts her gaze to meet Claude’s surprised—and frankly disappointed—ones. A sigh is all that leaves her lips as she turns her back to them.

“I’m sorry. But you cannot possibly understand the weight I carry on my shoulders. I must put an end to this cycle of misery and abuse.”

“...Even knowing where I’m from, why I came here, that with all of us we can end their reign of terror, you still refuse our help.”

“Yes. But there is one last thing.” Edelgard turns to Claude, a small smile gracing her lips. “If you do win, saving Fodlan from the Church and Those Who Slither in the Dark must be your priority.”

Claude playfully scoffs. “They tried to have me killed, and I don’t think any of us really liked Rhea’s rule to begin with. So I doubt that’ll be much of a problem.”

“In that case, I’ll be on my way. I’ll be seeing you three in Enbarr for the final battle.”

Edelgard signals to Hubert to take their leave, and the two of them begin their departure from the plains. But before she could get very far, Dimitri calls out to her.

“Edelgard, wait!”

The emperor pauses, glancing over her shoulder to look at the king. Dimitri pulls something from his pocket and approaches. Claude notices Hubert suddenly go stiff, but then the item is finally revealed, and Claude’s eyes grow wide.

Dimitri hands Edelgard a dagger, one with a silver blade and a blue, iron grip. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, nor was it simple or dull. Edelgard’s face blew into surprise as she eyes the weapon, carefully taking it from Dimitri and holding it to examine.

“How... How did you...?”

“It’s for you. Use it to cut a path to the future you wish for. And... I promise to rise up there to meet you, El.”

Edelgard is shell shocked for a moment, but not a moment later does she almost chuckle as she stares at Dimitri with sudden recognition.. “Right. I shall await your arrival. Farewell, for now.”

Turning again, Edelgard and Hubert departed. Claude watched them leave with a heavy heart. He had promised to save everyone. If Edelgard did not join them, there was no guarantee she would live to see the end of this war. The duke could only sigh as frustration bubbled up inside him.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up to see it was Byleth. The professor’s face was stern—more than usual, compared to his 24/7 blank-slate expression—as he said to Claude, “We’ll find a way to keep her safe during the battle.”

Claude shook his head. “No. There’s no point. Even if Edelgard was the last person standing on the battlefield, she’d never yield.”

A sigh came from Dimitri, who approached the two. “Indeed. She’s always been that way, for as long as I can remember.”

“And it seems to hold true regardless of which life we live. We have no choice but to strike her down.” Carefully, Claude eyed the king. “Do you think you could live with that? Killing your sister?”

“I’ve long accepted such a fate. Though I understand the position she may be in, she’s still allowed the Agarthans to do more harm on a much grander scale. For that, I cannot forgive her, and I will fight until my dying breath.”

“We should head back,” Byleth said. “There’s much to do still, and little time until we set off to raid the capital.”

“Yeah. Let’s head out.”

The three of them nodded in agreement, leaving the field with guilty consciences and a dark, heavy weight upon their hearts. The last thing they wanted was to kill Edelgard. But knowing they would have no other choice, the preparation continued.

In just a few days, Enbarr would fall.


	50. The Assault on Enbarr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude, Byleth, and Dimitri lead their armies against Hubert's forces in the streets of Enbarr. Tragedy is all the city comes to know during the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've decided on scheduled updates! Well, kinda. I'll be updating at the bare minimum 2-3 times a month. I'm aiming to do a chapter a week, but I can't guarantee that so 2-3 times a month is the most I can promise so... Yeah.
> 
> Anyway, on to the chapter!! Pack your bags, kiddos, cause it's one hell of a ride ;)

Now with the power of Almyra’s forces, the Kingdom and Alliance armies march towards Enbarr along with the Knights of Seiros. Claude is certain the city will easily fall if they manage to defeat Hubert before reinforcements from the northwest and southeast arrive. There’s just one problem...

“Are you certain you want to take on this task?” Byleth asked the equestrian.

Ferdinand gave a nod. “I wish to help however I can. I’m certain I can convince Hubert to join our cause!”

For a moment, Claude and the professor exchange a look. Then, returning his gaze to the ex-Imperial general, the former said to him, “Uh, yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna be much of a possibility now.”

“Nonsense. Hubert and Edelgard always seek out my guidance before any major battle. Surely they’ll take head and bow before our might once they recognize it.”

“Ferdinand,” Byelth said, his tone as gentle as it could be, “you’re wanted in the Empire for treason against the emperor, remember? I don’t think anyone regardless of your relationship with them will listen.”

“Still, it shouldn’t hurt to try, right?”

The look on Ferdinand’s face was nothing short of heartbreaking. Like that of a kicked puppy. He knew just as well as they did that Hubert wouldn’t back down so long as Edelgard ordered him to stand his ground. He was loyal to her and her alone. Still...

“...Yeah. Yeah, sure thing, buddy,” Claude said, attempting reassurance. “You’ll be on the frontlines with the three of us. Just... Try not to get yourself killed, hm?”

“Of course not! I am a master strategist just like yourself, Claude! Perhaps not quite as talented, but I’m the best in the Empire without a doubt.”

“Good. Then you’ll need it for when we actually invade the city,” Byleth told him.

The professor dug around in his pockets for a bit before pulling out a parchment of paper. He laid it out before the three of them as Claude motioned for Dimitri—who stood off talking to Rodrigue likely over Kingdom business—to come over. Now there was a map of the city between them.

Byleth pointed over to a large building that stood to the left of the center plaza. “Here is the opera house. Dorothea and Bernadetta will be stationed there to make sure the citizens get out of the crossfire safely. Our scouts reported Edelgard hasn’t evacuated Enbarr, and it doesn’t seem like she plans on doing so anytime soon.”

“Using her citizens as a shield... Typical.”

“My thoughts exactly. A smart move, and one Edelgard definitely jumped at to take advantage of the moment the thought crossed her mind. So try to avoid civilian casualties if you can. If they take up arms against you... Do what you must to live.”

The other three nodded. Byleth went on.

“Hubert will likely be stationed on the other side from the entry gates where we’ll be bursting in. If we can get to him, it’ll be all over.”

“Once we talk him into joining our side, right Professor?”

“...Sure, Ferdinand.”

“Then it’s settled,” Dimitri spoke up. “The three of us-”

“Four. Sorry, Ferdinand’s joining,” Claude informed the king.

“Er... Right. The _four_ of us will take the lead with our battalions while the others scatter around the city to clear the way.”

“Precisely.”

Claude gave a smile as he patted the professor and king on the back. “Well, gentlemen, let’s get this show on the road!”

* * *

The battle in Enbarr was fierce. Cutting through the Imperial troops that swarmed the place was no easy task. Even with everyone’s efforts it took great skill and strategy just to surge through the first half of the city. When they got to the central plaza, it was now or never.

“Dorothea! Bernadetta! Defend the opera house and make sure you get as many civilians in there as you can!” Byleth ordered them.

“On it, Professor!” Dorothea called back confidently, wasting no time in getting to the place she had once called her own long before the war.

“You got it!” Bernadetta answered, following the other woman away from the battle.

“Now that that’s taken care of, let’s go greet Hubert.”

Byleth nodded to the duke, but before he could charge forward to meet the rest of the Imperial troops head-on, a sudden screeching echoed across the battlefield. Ringing filled the ears of everyone in the city, some crouching and others running off in fear of whatever the hell made that sound. When the professor and Claude turned their heads to see what was going on, the first thing their eyes witnessed was a large, winged Demonic Beast soaring over the gates of the city.

“Fuck. Reinforcements just arrived,” Claude hissed.

“I’ll go take care of it. You and Dimitri just handle Hubert...”

“Teach, wait-!”

Before Claude could protest, the professor was already making their way back to the rearguard, Sword of the Creator in hand. The duke let out a frustrated sigh before turning to the king and general beside him.

“It’s up to us now, guys.”

“Then we better make this quick. If we don’t hurry, the whole city will be surrounded by those beasts!”

The three of them nodded in agreement, and soon after did they return to charging full force through enemy lines until they managed to slowly push back their foes. Claude, atop Gila, used Failnaught’s might to take down any troops coming their way in an attempt to ambush his terrestrial allies. His bird’s-eye view gave him an advantage most Imperial troops didn’t: very few were wyvern or pegasi riders, while he was comfy and cozy in the sky. Not exactly safe, what with their archers and mages, but that was no problem for a skilled warrior like himself.

Meanwhile, Dimitri tore through their foes like a feral animal with the help of Areadbhar, and if they weren’t in the middle of a fight Claude swore he’d be swooning by now. There was also Ferdinand, who looked rather pained to fight against his people like this. Still, he was very good at hiding it. He cut down any enemy who crossed his path without a single thought—zero hesitation in his movements, completely swift and efficient in his attacks—as they inched their way closer and closer to Hubert’s position.

Finally, after hours of battle, they made it.

There was a sly smile gracing the mage’s pale features, and for a moment he almost seemed impressed. Still, knowing him, that smile only meant one thing: he was already aiming for the kill.

“My, my. It’s good to see you all again.”

“Cut the shit, Hubert,” Claude warned him. “It’s over. Your military rule is at an end.”

“For every step you take along that path, our thorns will cut into your heels.”

“Hubert, please-”

“Ferdinand. To think you’d betray your country like this. What a shame...” Hubert let out a sigh. Whether or not it was feigned, Claude knew he may never get the answer. “Running into you in the capital like this almost feels sentimental.”

“Hubert, you and Edelgard have to stand down,” the general pleaded. “We can figure this out together. I know if we just talk things through we can see an end to this war without losing any more of the people we love!”

Hubert shook his head. “Still naive as ever, aren’t you? I thought seeing the bloodshed from the other side would at least wake you from your childish dreams. You knew what you were getting into with this war. When will you see it won’t stop until one side has been completely annihilated?”

“Because I know it doesn’t have to be that way! Gah, if only you could see... The professor, Claude, and His Majesty only want to build a better Fodlan just like us! Please, Hubert, join us. We can convince Edelgard as well.”

“We both know that won’t happen. Stop being childish!”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Claude shouted. “Hubert, stand down or we’ll have no choice but to end you here and now.”

That immediately sent Ferdinand into a panic. He stared up at Claude in horrified surprise before practically begging, “No, Claude, please, just let me get through to him!”

“Ferdinand,” Dimitri spoke up, his voice stern yet soft, “there’s no persuading him. Either he stands down or we...” The king paused as he took a deep breath, shutting his eye. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not to Ferdinand. “We don’t have much of a choice here.”

“But...” Ferdinand glanced over at Hubert. “But... I...”

“Enough of this. You-” Hubert turned to face Claude. “I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance. I shall rectify that here!”

The mage was the first to attack, hurling a miasma spell directly at Claude as the battle began. The duke was able to dodge it, but just barely. Seeing no other way out of this he nocked his arrow and released it with haste. The golden glow of Failnaught’s power shimmered as it flew through the air as fast as the warm winds around them. However, Hubert was just as quick, and though he barely avoided Claude’s attack he was still standing.

The two found themselves engaged in a heated struggle to gain power over one another. When one released their fury the other was barely scratched. It seemed nearly impossible for either man to gain the upper hand at this rate. However, that was until Hubert fired another miasma spell at Claude. The duke attempted to dodge, but Gila wasn’t fast enough to catch up with her master’s command. The spell hit her directly on one of her wings, and down she went.

“Claude!” Dimitri and Ferdinand both cried out. The king was the first to rush to aid his ally, but was quickly stopped by a demonic beast that rushed towards them.

The monster let out a fierce roar as he swiped its claws at the king. Dimitri jumped back to avoid the blow, but now the beast stood between him and Claude. He turned over to Ferdinand as he readied his lance for battle.

“Ferdinand, I need you to get to Claude and help him!” he commanded.

“Yes, of course!” the general replied.

Dimitri nodded to him before immediately moving to distract the demonic beast. If he could keep its attention purely on him, Ferdinand could escape over to Claude’s position to help fight off the mage.

Meanwhile, Claude fell along with his wyvern until the two were sitting ducks on the streets of Enbarr. The duke tried his best to keep his friend in the air, but ultimately Gila was too injured to stay afloat. When they collapsed he quickly measured her wing.

Her thin skin that stretched out as she flew gracefully in the sky now had holes literally burned into them. The poor wyvern cried out in pain as the miasma ate away at her flesh, and in her panic—as she fell—she threw her master to the ground before she could fall on top of him, trapping him beneath her weight. Claude did his best to console her, patting her snout and whispering to her, “hey, everything’s gonna be okay”.

While attempting to keep his wyvern at ease until a healer could arrive, Claude kept a careful eye as Hubert slowly approached them. The mage let out a chuckle that honestly wouldn’t appear as sinister as it did if it came from anyone but him.

“It seems you’ve hit a dead end, Claude. What will you do?” he asked. “Don’t even think about using your sword either... Your skill with such a weapon is quite lacking compared to your agility with a bow, and let’s not forget our audience.” He gestured his hand to the injured wyvern, earning him a glare from the duke.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than empty threats to scare me, Vestra,” Claude hissed.

“Perhaps. There’s just one error you’ve made.”

“And what’s that?”

“I was not making a mere threat, von Riegan. It was a _promise_ ,” the mage replied. His grin widened as he casted yet another spell, preparing to land the finishing blow. “And I _always_ carry out my promises...”

Hubert began to cackle, and Claude could not see any way out. He had been cornered with nowhere to run. The duke closed his eyes and hung his head in defeat as he waited for the mage to finish him off.

But then came the squishing and gurgling that rang in Claude’s ears like a drum. His head jerked up to see what had happened, and his eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as shock overwhelmed his senses.

Blood ran from Hubert’s mouth—who was as shocked as Claude was, if not more so—and dripped off his chin onto the stone pavement below. His eyes trailed down along with the duke’s. Lo and behold, there was the sharp tip of a lance that was coated in his blood as it pierced his body clean through. Silence fell between them, with only the distant sound of their soldiers fighting throughout the capital being heard. For a long moment no one said a word or even moved a muscle.

Then, slowly, Hubert fell to his knees, gripping his wound reflexively as blood seeped through his clothes and stained the streets they stood on. As he collapsed, Claude was able to see who had come to save him. His mouth fell agape as he saw Ferdinand standing there, face twisted in pain and tears falling from his sunfire-colored eyes.

“Ferdinand. You...”

“I... Hubie, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t want to-”

“No... I place my faith in Her Majesty... Don’t be foolish, accept this victory.” Hubert let out a fierce cough, blood spilling still from his lips as his body toppled over onto its side.

“Hubert!” Ferdinand cried out. He threw himself forward to catch the mage before Hubert’s body could hit the ground, holding him close in his arms. “Hubert... Please, don’t say such things. We can find you a healer! We... We can-”

“Ferdinand, enough. For goodness sake, even as I die you continue to act naive...” Ferdinand frowned immediately at that.

“Because I don’t want you to die! I never did! Nobody here did!” he yelled at the other man. “Don’t you understand how difficult this has all been? For everyone? The last thing I wanted was for the people I love to die by my hands, to have my conscience stained with their blood. That includes you you selfish, pompous, no good-”

Suddenly, Hubert began to laugh. It was pained, but it was also one that was filled with what sounded like genuine affection.

“Don’t ever change, Ferdinand,” Hubert told him. “Just do me one favor.”

“Hubert?”

“Kill those bastards. Make them suffer for the pain they’ve caused Edelgard and so many others...”

“Hubert, I... Please, no, don’t talk like this,” Ferdinand pleaded. “We’ll get you a healer and we can talk to Edelgard together, and then we can-”

He paused, his body stiffening as Hubert reached up and gently cupped his face. Then, his expression fell, and whatever composure he had left crumbled. Ferdinand grabbed Hubert’s hand, leaning into it as he sobbed.

Claude couldn’t hear a word from where he stood, but he knew Ferdinand had whispered to the dying man something important. Something personal and deep and true. He knew what it was, but turned away to give them the privacy he knew they needed. Eventually, Hubert released his final breath.

Just like that, he left this world, and Ferdinand cried his heart out to the heavens as it happened.

* * *

“What happened?” Caspar asked as he, and the others, approached the farther end of the city. The Empire’s troops had all been defeated with only a few soldiers here and there that continued to fight in the name of their country. They were so few and far between that rather than focusing on them, the armies sent their scouts to take care of it. There were no signs of demonic beasts either, though it was certain more waited for them inside the palace.

“It’s done,” Dimitri explained to them. “Enbarr has fallen. Now it’s time to siege the castle, and it’ll finally be over.”

Bernadetta, who walked in with Dorothea from the opera house, looked around the sea of faces with glimmering hope.

Said hope was crushed when her eyes had laid upon Ferdinand, who was disheveled with his face sunken in and stained red from his tears. The smile she wore quickly faded as she hesitantly asked, “Where’s Hubert?”

Claude felt himself cringe. “He’s...no longer with us.”

“Oh...” The Varley heir glanced over at her distraught friend. “Ferdinand...? A-Are you alright?”

He didn’t give her an answer. His eyes remained glued to his boots as he fisted the cloth of his vest, avoiding the gaze of everyone around him.

Bernadetta’s frown deepened. She walked over to the general and gently grabbed at his sleeve. He finally turned to her, but still said not a word. That didn’t discourage her in the slightest, however, given as she gave him the best smile she could offer. Her eyes were filled with sympathy as she looked at him, though her hold bore promises neither of them were sure could be fulfilled.

“We’ll find a spot to bury him,” she said in a soft whisper, low enough for only them to hear. “Some place with lots of shade so the sun doesn’t bother him. Maybe up on a hill so you two can look at the city together when you visit him.”

“...Yes. I... I think he’ll like that... But nothing too high. He’s always hated heights...”

She nodded. “Of course. Wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable. Now come on, we still have work to do. Wouldn’t want to leave this place in total shambles.”

“Right. I...” A sigh escaped Ferdinand’s lips. “Nevermind. Let’s be on our way.”

With that, Bernadetta led Ferdinand away from the scene. The dozens of eyes glued to them continued to watch in silence until they disappeared into the city. Once they were gone, everyone’s attention returned to Claude and Dimitri.

The duke let out a deep and heavy sigh. “Alright. Make what preparations you can. We’ll be heading inside shortly, and I doubt Her Majesty is gonna let us win so easily so expect plenty of trouble in there. Is that clear?”

The crowd of friends and allies let out a shout, “Yes, sir!”

“Then let’s move!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I hinted at something happening with the Bernadetta/Ferdinand/Hubert ship dynamic in my tags? Well, hope you liked it! :D
> 
> Yea, Hubie's dead now. And Ferdie's traumatized with a capital T. Big oof. All that's left to do now is fight Edelgard and the Empire loses. Buckle up kids, it's gonna be a doozy.


	51. Conclusion of the Crossing Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard awaits in the throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a message at the end of this update for people interested in simple services (including commissions), but if you aren't interested in it or can't afford it then you can just skip it honestly. Please don't flag the update as spam, this is literally the only time I'll be posting that kind of stuff because I hate begging for money. But AO3 is full of people willing to read more content and that is what I'm offering so if you just aren't going to use the service again please just skip the message.
> 
> Enjoy the update!

“Edelgard is likely in the throne room,” Dimitri muttered as their armies marched into the palace. “We should remain cautious. We don’t know how many Agarthans are waiting for us inside.”

“Indeed. Regular soldiers we can no doubt handle. But those people... They’re an entirely different enemy from what we’ve seen so far,” Byleth said in agreement.

“Let’s not forget we still have Rhea to rescue,” Claude added. “But you’re right. Let’s be careful.”

The other two nodded their heads as they all headed inside. Once within the castle walls, and the enemy began its charge, the battle had begun. Claude knew to their right and left, in the adjacent rooms to the palace entrance, were demonic beasts and powerful mages. The latter was the true problem. A few of their soldiers would be killed in one hit from their magic if they weren’t careful. They had to avoid their range as much as possible.

Claude led his battalion around the left side of the stairwell, keeping close to the wall as much as possible. He knew waiting for them on the other side were war masters, mages, and a few grapplers. He’d have to take them out quickly before the Agarthan mages closed in on them. He signaled for Dimitri’s soldiers to attack the first group ahead due to their large number of cavalry units. Dimitri called to the men and women to attack, and the first few battalions were now distracted, leaving room for them to advance.

Their next obstacle was actually gaining access to the throne room, and with two powerful mages on either side of the large corridor it was difficult for Claude to find an opening. He carefully observed as soldiers around him fought for their lives—steel clashing against steel, fire and wind blowing through the chaotic room, soldiers left and right on both sides falling into a pool of their own blood—while he himself had to defend off several of their foes. A mage there, an axeman here, the entire palace was thrown into chaos. Yet, they were still able to slowly advance as their generals and dear friends worked side-by-side to fend off against the horde of Imperial soldiers. Somewhere in the distance was the roar of demonic beasts slowly closing in, and he knew they had to get in that room before they were overrun.

“Byleth!” he called to the professor. “We need an opening, or we’ll never make it to Edelgard!”

“You got it,” the professor shouted in return.

Byleth, equipped with the Sword of the Creator glowing brilliantly in his grasp, charged ahead into the frontlines, cutting down soldier after soldier as the sword broke into its whip-like form until he reached the stairs heading into the throne room. Claude and Dimitri quickly followed.

Edelgard’s hiding spot was just as crowded with soldiers, if not more heavily protected with more Agarthan gremories and archers surrounding Her Majesty. Sitting on her throne, the emperor looked down at the trio with a heavy frown. Her eyes were narrowed and full of pride. Claude could only return the gaze with his very own, which held regretful malice as he, the king, and the professor continued their path to her. As they reached closer and closer to her throne, wave after wave of soldiers were flung at them. Dimitri and Byleth were able to strike them down without a single sweat—with the Blaiddyd crest and the Sword of the Creator at their command it was hard to imagine why such a feat couldn’t be plausible—until, finally, they were face to face against the emperor.

Standing before her throne with Amyr in hand, Edelgard looked as regal as ever with her battle armor and horned crown. Her eyes were distant and cold as she stared at the three generals, purple momentarily meeting sea green, emerald, and ocean blue as she gazed at each and every one of them.

“So... You’ve managed to get this far.”

“Last chance, Edelgard,” Claude warned her. “Step down and we can all walk away alive from this.”

“How can I when so many have already been sacrificed? If I am to lose this war, I shall do it with my people by joining them in the grave.” The emperor’s gaze fell onto the professor. “I only wished I could have walked with you, Professor.”

“Your path was not one I could follow you on,” Byleth said to her.

“Yes. I understand that now. Your ideals are not far removed from my own. But without sufficient knowledge of this land’s suffering, I cannot entrust Fodlan’s future to you. None of you.”

Dimitri scoffed. “Can’t entrust the future, yet you were made aware Claude came from such a peaceful time? From a Fodlan so protected and strong that your allies who have also hurt you tried to kill him  _ several times _ ?”

“You know I have nothing to do with their actions.”

“Yet you gave them power during this war... Maybe you shouldn’t have to worry about Fodlan’s future too much if that’s your attitude.” Claude reached over his shoulder quickly to grab an arrow. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll finish the job for you.”

At that, Edelgard charged at them. The three dispersed from their spots to cover more ground and gain some distance. Amyr was a powerful weapon, charged with the blood and energy of Seiros: the strongest of the Goddess’s children. If one of them was caught in its deadly grasp it would surely be over. Luckily all of them equipped themselves with longer-range weapons.

Dimitri was the first to strike the emperor, jumping head first into battle with a mighty warrior’s cry as he lifted Areadbhar high above his head before thrusting the jagged edge of the lance down onto her head. Edelgard managed to roll away from the attack, but in doing so fell into Byleth’s own trap. The professor unleashed the Sword of the Creator’s whip once more, thrusting the weapon forward and launching the blade directly at her. With a quick side step, Edelgard managed to dodge it, though just barely.

She let out a shriek as the tip of the blade cut through her sleeve and stabbed her through the shoulder before it retracted back to its original form, jerking her forward and onto her knees as her body shivered in pain. Edelgard let out sharp gasps of breath as she tried to quickly get back on her feet. However, Claude was one step ahead and nocked his bow just as Byleth attacked her. She was now vulnerable, and he would not waste the chance.

He released the arrow and allowed it to soar until it pierced her other shoulder. Edelgard let out a cry as she fell onto her side, releasing the axe. Now was their chance!

“Teach! Go for it!” Claude yelled.

He knew he wasn’t strong enough. It was the professor who had finished off the emperor, and though he knew it would be more fitting for Dimitri to end things—he was still her brother, after all—the king had made it clear he would follow Claude’s lead. It felt wrong, but the professor was their best bet.

And so Byleth followed the command and approached Edelgard, who was struggling to rip the arrow from her body from the floor. Just as she was able to tear it from her shoulder, Claude was quick to shoot another in there, and then another in her chest for good measure. Edelgard let out a yelp as each arrow struck true. Her head fell backwards onto the floor, turning so she was gazing up at the professor. She was pinned now, there was little she could do to change this outcome from her position.

A moment of silence fell upon them. All that echoed within the throne room’s walls was Edelgard’s jagged breathing. Byleth stared down at the emperor with pained eyes, ones that were once bland and empty but were now full of guilt and sorrow. Edelgard could not help but chuckle at the sight.

“It looks as though...my path ends here... Professor, claim your victory,” she said to him. “You must strike me down.”

Byleth did nothing, nor did Claude or Dimitri. It was clear what they still wanted. What they were still waiting for. But it was also clear that Edelgard would not give it to them.

“Even now people across this land are suffering... People are killing each other... If you do not act now this conflict will go on forever!”

“Edelgard...”

“Just do it!” the woman screamed.

Her words echoed through the cavern-like walls of the palace, and Byleth sharply inhaled as it rang again and again in their ears. Claude and Dimitri looked to the professor with worried gazes.

“Teach...”

“Professor...”

“I... I’m sorry, all three of you,” the professor said. “But this...must be done.”

Then, without further hesitation, Byleth lifted the sword above him and swung down onto Edelgard. The sound of blood splurging from flesh and seeping from deep wounds would forever be ingrained in their minds, as would the smile that graced the emperor’s lips before her head was cut clean from her body and rolled from her corpse.

It was done.

Edelgard was dead, and the Empire had fallen with her. Claude felt his stomach grow sickened at the sight of his ex-classmate. Without thinking, he grabbed at Dimitri’s arm, the pressure strong enough for the other to feel through the thick steel. The king pulled Claude in close as they both turned away from the sight. It was something neither of them could bear to witness any longer than they had to.

Byleth, meanwhile, sheathed his sword before staring longingly at the emperor’s body. After a short beat he let out a heavy sigh.

“We still have work to do,” he reminded the couple. Though they gave no response.

The professor turned his head to them, noticing the way their bodies shivered even as they held each other close. Especially Claude. His grip on Dimitri was clearly a cry for help, for comfort, of which the king happily provided. It surprised the teacher. He half expected Dimitri to be the one sobbing in the other’s arms, but from the small whimpers he could hear he knew both of them needed time to mourn.

Edelgard was their enemy, their target from the very beginning, but she was still a person. She was once their friend, their ally, and Dimitri’s beloved sister. Though Byleth had his suspicions, even back then, he had always seen her as an intelligent young woman who would one day lead her people to greatness. He just wished it hadn’t been at the expense of others.

Another sigh escaped his lips before Byleth began to make his way down from the throne and out of the room. He would allow the pair their time. No matter how old they were, or how many lives they’ve lived, the professor knew better than anyone they were still human. And humans grieved, even for their enemies.

By the time he had left the room to greet their soldiers, Dimitri and Claude were still clinging to one another and sharing their sorrow. Just this once, they would allow themselves to be weak. All the meanwhile they would remain there for one another, carrying each other in their moment of weakness.

They would still avenge their friend. The Agarthans still needed to be stopped. But for now, they would also mourn her death, and, for hours, mourn they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know this is a little OOC for me since I don't really advertise much on this platform (mostly cause it could get flagged for spam) but I'm actually really struggling at the moment trying to find a job and I'm quickly going broke. I've been applying left and right but am either ignored by the online application system or straight up rejected, nor do I really count for unemployment since I've never been able to hold a job for more than five months (apparently paid internships don't count). Such is the way of capitalism in a pandemic I suppose.
> 
> Anyway, while I wait to turn 18 in another month and a half so I can become a humble servant to people with a lot of money who are too lazy to walk to the McDonalds just a few blocks away I've decided to pick up freelancing on Fiverr. If any of you watch CdawgVA it's that website where you can pay people to do voice acting or draw fanart for you. I currently have two gigs available for anyone in need of them.
> 
> The first is a resume builder where if you have a resume already but you think you've still made an error, I will gladly fix it for just ten bucks! The highest I'll charge is 20 and that's if you need a whole resume built from the ground up, but simply proofreading or editing ain't gonna cost you that much. If I can get the gig started, I'll soon change the prices so it's much cheaper. You can find the gig here: [Resume Builder and Editor](https://www.fiverr.com/share/ZzPojm)
> 
> The other is a commission slot for oneshots and short stories of your OTP/BrOTP, or even a self insert, for the small price of 20 bucks (again I'll try to lower it so it's cheaper a little later). If you're interested in that here is the gig: [Oneshot and Short Story Commissions](https://www.fiverr.com/share/WbPeW)
> 
> And that's the end of this message. If you're interested in either gig just click the link and I'll get a message on Fiverr once you make the request! If not, completely ignore everything I just said! But only use the service if you can afford it! If you've got 100 bucks and think a measly 20 won't hurt YOU ARE WRONG PLEASE JUST KEEP IT I AM TELLING YOU FROM EXPERIENCE IT'S A BAD IDEA IN THE LONG RUN-
> 
> As I said before I really hate begging for money so I'll only send this kind of message once (cause let's face it—how many people who read fanfics for free online actually have cash available??? Being asked to spend money you ain't got over and over is annoying af) but this is kind of a last resort so I don't go broke until my next refund check from school in the spring or until I can start earning money on Uber in December. But that's all for now. I hope you guys have enjoyed this update (RIP Edelgard, we hardly knew ye) and I shall see ya'll next time! Peace out!
> 
> Edit: my Fiverr has sadly been disabled, but if you would still like to commission me please reach me on my [instagram](https://instagram.com/help_this_trashcan_plz?igshid=1luv6rgl5laq) to discuss payments and requests. Catch ya later!


	52. Shambhala: the City Without Light Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final showdown between our heroes and the Agarthans begins.

It didn’t take very long for Claude’s scouts to find Hubert’s letter, reporting it to him immediately after the battle. Now they had good reason to find Shambhala and take down Thales so Fodlan may finally find peace. The trio announced the news to their soldiers, who were generally not too happy about having to throw themselves into yet another conflict. However, Claude had a bit of a different idea... 

“I know many of you would wish to return to your families now that we are safe from the Empire’s clutches,” he told them. “So, as leader of the Alliance, I hereby grant any who wish to leave this army permission. You will not be labeled as traitors to your country nor charged with treason. If you don’t plan on joining us in Shambhala, turn yourselves away now.”

The gasps among those in the crowd before them were of no surprise to the duke. Last time he had pressured his soldiers, to fight one last battle with him, but that was only because their army was still small compared to the numerous troops the Agarthans had lurking underneath in their city. This time they held the power of three individual armies, and he knew well they would have enough staying by their side to still have a chance against the ancient race of humans.

Just as anticipated, very few actually chose to turn away with most of those who stayed behind being their friends and ex-classmates from their days at the Officer’s Academy.

“You’re fucking crazy if you think we’re just going to leave you behind,” Hilda scolded the duke.

Lorenz nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Claude, to pull such a stunt... While admirable, it won’t do us well when the time comes to face whoever ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark’ are.”

“They don’t have many soldiers, but those who are hiding in the city are likely doing all they can to prepare for the onslaught,” Ferdinand explained, his voice groggy and eyes appearing more tired than any of them had ever seen.

“But Ferdie, many of these soldiers need a break from this war more than anything. You look like you need one too...”

“While I appreciate the concern, Dorothea-”

“She’s right, Ferdinand,” Bernadetta butted in. “You look exhausted... You’ve fought hard enough.”

“They’re both right. Get some rest, Ferdinand. You’ve done well,” Byleth added, giving the man a smile in hopes it would be enough to reassure him.

Ferdinand weakly gazed at the three of them, words of protest on the edge of his tongue. Ultimately, however, he swallowed his pride as he released a heavy sigh. “Very well,” he said. “I will stay here and help with repairs to the city. Good luck to all of you.”

“Don’t worry Ferdinand, I’ll punch enough bad guys for the both of us!” Raphael yelled excitedly.

“We will be avenging Edelgard and Hubert,” Petra added. “Though they were the enemy, they were still once our friends.”

“I agree with Petra. Though I’m not too keen on getting into anymore fights. Maybe I should sit this one out as well...”

“Ah, don’t be like that Lindhardt! Besides, we still need healers there, so you ain’t even gotta fight! Just stick with me and we’ll do just fine!” Caspar suggested. “Plus I can’t go without my best friend there to back me up.”

“Right. ‘Best friend’. Is that why you two always- Ow! What was that for?”

Ingrid growled. “Do you ever not act like this?” she asked.

“No, unfortunately,” Felix grumbled beside her.

“Funny that you make such a suggestion about them Sylvain, because I still remember as if it was yesterday when you-”

“Mercie, you don’t have to embarrass them out in the open like this!”

“Embarrass who? What the hell are you talking about!?”

“Gah! No need to get so defense, Felix, I was just-”

“I believe that is enough,” Dedue called to the large group. The giant of a man then turned to the trio that was the professor, duke, and king. “Your Majesty, should we return to the Kingdom while Claude and the professor take care of these Slitherers in Shambhala?” he asked.

Dimitri shook his head. “This is very much our fight as well as theirs. If the ones who call themselves ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark’ manage to overpower them, they are just as likely to attempt to control the Kingdom as they are to invade the other territories in Fodlan. Besides, I have a rather personal score to settle with them.”

“If they’re as connected to the Empire during this whole war as Hubert claimed, we should also be able to get some answers to at least a few questions many have had these past few years,” Byleth pointed out. “I believe it’s in everyone’s best interest to fight them for the sake of Fodlan.”

“Teach is right. I just wanted to give people the opportunity to stay behind. I already knew a few of you would refuse to leave, so it was no sweat off my back making such a deal with the soldiers.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t end in our downfall in Shambhala,” Judith sighed. “I suppose I should head back anyway. After all, the Alliance will still need guarding if anything were to happen to all of you.”

“I should return as well to the Kingdom,” Rodrigue said. “Though now that we have the territory under full control, it would still be best if someone were there to ensure there isn’t another coupe awaiting His Majesty.”

“Agreed. Gilbert should return with you as well. With the two of you, I’m certain the Kingdom will be in good hands.”

The two men bowed to their king, announcing their thanks for such an honor to defend their home before taking their leave. Judith, too, said her goodbyes—though they were a little less formal compared to Duke Fraldarius and the general of the Knights of Seiros—before leaving to return to Derdriu. With everyone’s mind made up, the remainder of the army marched towards Shambhala in Alliance territory.

* * *

Walking into the darkness of the city was something Claude wasn’t sure he was ready for. The last time he walked down into the dimly lit tunnels and advanced caverns, he didn’t quite know if he was going to make it out dead or alive. He still held that fear close to his heart. A long time ago, he had believed he was ahead of the game. But because of Solas and Kronya, he’d come to realize he couldn’t just rely on his knowledge of the war and what would come of it. No, even now he would still have to depend on his wit and masterful deception to win this fight. Thales knew him more than anyone else—his victories, his losses, his strengths and his weaknesses. Letting his guard down here meant death, and he was sure everyone else knew as well. And if that happened then Fodlan was guaranteed to fall to the power of the Agarthans.

The plan was a simple one: they would attempt to deceive Thales by working with the same strategy as before. But once they were face-to-face with him, it would be time to pull out the big guns.

First, their armies had the center of the city surrounded on all sides. Group by group they would close in on Thales’s position in the very middle of the chaos. Claude, Dimitri, and Byleth were stationed at the top right giving them an easy route to the mage. Using their strength and skills they managed to defeat and pass swordsmen and two Titanus mechas that stood in their way. Rounding the corner of the central control room, the trio burst through the door thanks to Dimitri’s inhuman might.

To Claude’s surprise, there was no one waiting inside. No one save for Thales, who stood quietly at the other end of the hall within the control room. No doubt the mage predicted their moves, just as the duke hoped he would, but now there was no telling what the enemy was thinking. All he could do was hope everything went according to plan.

The three of them stepped inside carefully, descending the stairs into the small hall that led to what appeared to be a throne upon which Thales sat. As they approached, the hall echoed the chuckling coming from whom Claude could only guess was the mage himself.

“I’m amazed at your courage, Your Majesty. I did not expect you to throw yourself so eagerly into an early grave.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but the only one not leaving this place alive is you, Thales,” the duke hissed. “And you can forget the mind tricks. I’m more confident than I was last time.”

Thales gave a smirk. “Oh? Is that so? And here I thought the death of your loved ones would be enough to discourage you humans. I suppose then they don’t quite matter to you.”

“Huh? What are you-? Gah, start makin’ sense already before I shoot this arrow straight through your throat you old fuck!”

“While you foolishly believe time has been rewound, I assure you that the friends whom you left behind still very much exist,” the mage explained. “They are simply on another dimensional plane, far out of your reach. Your allies are still nothing but corpses, now turned to ash, and that dear king of yours is still buried six feet beneath the dirt you walk upon. You haven’t accomplished anything, boy.”

“You’re wrong!”

There was a pause. Everyone’s heads turned to the king, who stood proud and tall with his head held high as he glared daggers into the windows of Thales’s soul. Dimitri stepped forward to guard Claude, his clear anger and frustration unwavering.

“Regardless if your words are true, Claude has done more for this universe than anyone could have hoped for. He has given us strength, friendship, and hope, and that is all that matters.”

Thales scoffed at the king. “Foolish little prince... Do you forget how easily he abandoned you? How he left you to rot both here and in his own world?”

“Your lies may work on others, but not me. I know who you are,” Dimitri growled. “You are the reason my family now haunts me. You are the reason behind this war that has claimed so many lives. Why the Empire has fallen from its glory, why the Nabateans were forced into hiding and turned into meer weapons to kill their own people, why I was forced to turn against my own sister and aid in her murder. Every ounce of misery the people of Fodlan feel is on your hands, and I will not allow you to trick me or anyone else here any longer! Today is the day you die, Thales. You and your people who have poisoned this land for centuries!”

Suddenly, Thales’s smile fell, and he returned the gaze of the king by tenfold. His stare was icy, and colder than even the harshest of Faerghus’s winters.

“Is that so? Well, then...”

The man suddenly stood, and the trio watched in horror as he raised his arm, flexing his wrist downward and eyes narrowing with spite. Then, his grin quickly returned, and Claude’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“If I am to die here, _then you’re all coming with me!_ ”

_ To Be Continued... _


	53. Shambhala: the City Without Light Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and the others face what appears to be their end. After all the rescuing he has done throughout the war, who will come to rescue him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll. I just wanted to say thank you all so much for your support. This has been an excruciatingly long week and while I'm glad nothing terrible has happened (yet) I'm also glad for the results of this stupid race. Honestly neither candidate was a good pick, both suck ass, but this place is in need of some serious new management regardless of how bad it may be so long as he's not as terrible as the last guy. The energy these past 24 hours have just been so exciting, it feels unlike anything else before. All the celebrating, the memes, and the partying (while still dangerous—wear your mask and social distance people!!!) has just honestly improved my mood so much.
> 
> But enough of that. Now that things will hopefully go back to normal once January comes I feel much more at peace and that's that. Now, let's get on with the story!

“Teach, Dima, we need to move,  _ now! _ ”

“Claude, what are you-”

“No time to explain! Fuckin’ move it!”

As Claude rushed to grab his professor and lover’s hands, Thales watched with extreme amusement. With a wicked grin he dropped to the ground, palm flat against the cold stone beneath his feet as he crouched. A circle of light creating the symbol of the Agarthans surrounded his being and glowed in the darkness of the city.

“There is no use in running, you fools! You will not win a second time!” he shouted to the fleeing trio. Claude feared his words may be true.

As they rushed out the central control room, the walls and floors around them already began to tremble. The duke’s heart froze, his mind in a daze as he watched rubble and rocks break and fall left and right. The city was going to be destroyed, just like before, and it was up to him to get everyone out of here.

“Teach, Dimitri,” he called to his companions, “we need everyone to evacuate. This place is gonna fall and we don’t have enough time.”

“But what about Thales?” the professor asked.

“Hopefully he dies in the rubble. If not, we’ll worry about that later.”

“Claude is right... Our focus should be getting our friends out of here before we all meet our doom.”

Byleth nodded in agreement, and it was decided. The three of them split up to find their allies and warned them of their impending deaths if they did not move quickly enough. There was some hesitancy, but nonetheless everyone began to flee. However, as they ran towards the exit, the city shook once again. The javelins kept coming, and Thales would continue to summon them until he and everyone else was crushed. While Claude didn’t see such an outcome for them, he also didn’t expect the mage to summon them so early in the fight. To make such a sacrifice would have been foolish. Yet, he was once again outsmarted by the Slitherers.

Perhaps Thales saw it was worth it to risk his death if it meant trapping Claude and his allies, and trap them he did. As Shambhala trembled and quivered from the impact, opening a hole in the ground above that hid the city from the prying eyes of their enemies, the surrounding debris just so happened to have crashed directly in front of the staircase leading back up to the surface. The staircase that was also their only way out. Claude, Byleth, Dimitri, and all their friends were now trapped.

“No!” Hilda screeched. The girl, in her panic, rushed towards the pile of rocks and metal with an angry cry. In a sad attempt to cut a path through the wreckage, she swung her axe wildly into the stone. However, she made not even a dent, and once tired out she eventually gave up. “We... We’re actually trapped,” she mumbled. “Guys, we’re trapped here, and whatever the fuck is making this place come down isn’t even stopping!”

“What... What are we gonna do?” Ignatz asked, his body shaking with fright. “We... We can’t just  _ die _ here!”

“We aren’t going to fucking die.”

“And what do you suggest?” Felix spat, his golden eyes narrowed at the duke. “Our only way out is up through that fucking hole in the ceiling, and last I checked none of us can fucking fly.”

“Felix, now is not the time to panic-”

“Oh, on the contrary: I think it’s a perfectly good time to fucking panic, Sylvain.”

“Can you both shut up?” Ingrid shouted. “Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“No. It’s not,” Claude said, his voice low and eyes casted downward. His lips pressed into a thin line as he attempted to come up with a plan to escape, though he knew it was hopeless. Rhea wasn’t here to protect them from the next blast; they left her in the hands of Seteth and the Church. They were sure to die here. Unless...

“But... Killing that son of a bitch is.”

The king cast a worried glance at the duke. “Claude?” he asked. “What are you suggesting.”

Without answering him, Claude—for perhaps the first in a long time—obeyed his impulses. It was a long shot. It was probably going to get him killed. But if everyone else was able to make it out of here alive, it was going to be worth it.

Clutching Failnaught and nocking an arrow, Claude turned on his heel and began to march straight back towards the center control room. Dimitri watched with confused worry, but once he took notice of the direction his beloved was heading he immediately began to give chase.

“Wait, Claude, don’t! You don’t know what he’s capable of!”

Claude still did not answer him. Nor did he plan to. He was going to end this, one way or another. The machines Thales and his people used to defend their city were broken husks now, reduced to nothing more than useless piles of scrap metal, so it was easy for him to return to the mage’s post. He walked in, eyes set in a glare towards the other man as he aimed. He knew it might have been fruitless to attack in such an obvious fashion, but by the gods he was desperate and tired of this war.

He released the arrow, allowing it to fly with impressive speed and accuracy—a given considering Failnaught’s power combined with the duke’s skill—but it was to no avail, just as he expected. Thales fabricated a barrier that deflected the arrow as if it were a mere pebble thrown helplessly against a wall. But Claude would not give up.

Again and again he nocked, aimed, and shot at the mage, only for his every attack to hit the barrier. Under normal circumstances Claude would have been more careful with his ammo. But death was inevitable now. After years and years of dodging its grasp, Claude was finally caught between a rock and a hard place. Either he fought Thales and died in a battle, or he was crushed under the weight of the collapsing city along with his friends. If he was going to go out either way, he’d be damned if he didn’t pick the former.

Once out of arrows, Claude grabbed the hilt of his sword and drew the blade before rushing directly at Thales with a furious war cry. Thales let out a chuckle as the duke foolishly attempted to break through the magic protecting him, his sword clashing again and again with the barrier. He could see the burning hatred in those emerald eyes that, long ago, looked down at him with the hint of victory and pride. Seeing such an expression made Thales positively giddy.

“Foolish boy, do you truly believe your pathetic steel can outmatch my powerful magic?” he chortled. “Have you become so desperate to have thrown away all reason and thought simply to see me dead? To have my blood stain your very hands?”

“Maybe... But it’s better than sitting on my ass and just allowing my friends to die, jerk!”

“How amusing... Well, then, this game of ours has been pleasant, albeit rather bothersome. See you in the eternal flames, Khalid!”

The emblem surrounding Thales’s being glowed again, and Claude knew he was summoning yet another javelin of light. The one that very well may kill him and his friends. In a sense of blind fury, Claude let out a roar as he continued to pointlessly unleash a barrage of attacks that barely scratched the protective barrier. This was it, his last few moments, but he would not stop until he managed to break through and end the mage for all he had done to the land and its people.

That is, until the clinking of metal and bones echoed in his ears, and just as he turned he could see the stretching blade of the Sword of the Creator reach around them and strike Thales square in the shoulder. Claude watched in surprise as the mage let out a pained groan, the barrier slipping away as he clutched the wound tightly.

The duke looked back over his shoulder, and to his surprise there stood the professor and Dimitri with Byleth’s blade covered in what he could only assume was Thales’s blood.

Then, suddenly, the latter charged forward—Areadbhar ready and in hand—and shoved past Claude to kick Thales just under his chin, throwing him backwards and flying to the other side of the room from the sheer force and power behind the blow. Without another moment of hesitation, Dimitri approached the mage with his lance lifted above his head before thrusting the edge downwards. The force was so strong it shocked Claude to see Thales’s head roll away the instant he was beheaded, ricocheting before stopping to face the wall.

Claude was frozen, legs glued to the floor, as he attempted to piece together just what the actual fuck just happened. Did he just...watch Thales get beheaded? Just like that? And when did-

_ SLAP! _

“Ahh!” Claude shrieked, the stinging pain of a slap setting his nerves aflame as he reached up to smooth the abused skin on his cheeks. The duke glanced over with wide eyes at the professor who glared in return.

“That’s for fucking running off and trying to get yourself killed,” he growled.

“Professor, as stupid as Claude’s decision was, I don’t think-”

“One more word Dimitri, and you’re next.”

The king fell silent in face of the threat, his eye glancing towards Claude in pity. As if to say “I’d defend you but I would rather not get smacked as hard as you were just now”, to which Claude believed was pretty understandable. For all that the professor was skilled with a sword, he was just as easily skilled with the power and strength of his bare hands. If he chose an occupation as a brawler, Claude was sure no one would be able to beat him. Was Byleth just talented in  _ everything _ ? Talk about a jack-of-all-trades…

Still, the duke gave his professor the smallest of smiles as he said, “I know that was pretty well deserved, but you could’ve at least gone a little easier on me.”

Byleth scoffed. “You almost got killed by a man centuries older than you or I, and here you are cracking jokes...” He shook his head. “Gods, you never change.”

“Eh. I like to think that just adds to my devilish charm,” Claude replied, offering his classic smirk-and-wink technique.

“Enough. Thales is dead. We should try to find a way to get everyone else to safety,” Dimitri said. “With all the caverns and paths in the area, no doubt there will be more of them coming our way.”

“Highly unlikely. But... There is one place those caverns probably lead to. Remember how I said these guys like to do...experiments?”

“Don’t tell me-”

“First thing’s first, we should get the others out. Whatever is waiting at the end of those caves can wait.”

“You don’t want to underestimate these things, Teach,” Claude warned him. “We should seek them out while we’re here. Last time it took almost everyone’s power to get the job done.”

“Seriously? There’s no way the Agarthans could create something like that...could they?”

“We’ve seen them use metal that can  _ move _ . Whatever the fuck they’ve done now to their victims won’t be too far fetched,” Byleth said. “But if they’re as troublesome as you say, Claude, perhaps it’s best we get everyone else in on it too. Still, we should send out a messenger in case something goes wrong.”

Claude nodded. “Cyril is probably the fastest with his wyvern. I’d send him out with mine, but every person-wyvern relationship is special and not just  _ anyone _ could ride her... Plus I left her at the monastery to rest after all the fighting between us and the Empire.”

“That explains why you walked all the way here...”

“Not the point. Let’s go meet back with the others and let them know.” Claude waved to the two of them over his shoulder as he turned to walk out of the center control room, hoping silently to himself he would never have to look at Thales’s ugly mug again. The two followed him out as they made their short journey back to the exit of the city.

“Claude, aren’t you worried they might start asking questions?” Dimitri asked him as they walked.

“Maybe... But at this point,” he said, “I think I’m done keeping secrets. For now, at least.”

Byleth rolled his eyes. “That’s not reassuring at all.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. Now let’s move it!”


	54. Remember the Past, Walk Towards the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything must come to an end.

“Whoa, this place is spooky!”

“And what an echo!”

“D-Does anyone feel uncomfortable with how...moist it feels down here?”

“Ew. Just hearing that word makes me uncomfortable.”

“What? Moist?”

“Sylvain, I swear to Sothis-”

“Can you all please stop acting like children?” the professor growled, walking ahead beside Claude and Dimitri. “I leave you all for five years and you somehow still end up like this.”

“To be fair, Teach, they all thought you were dead for five years.”

“The only reason Claude didn’t believe the same is because he’s a lunatic,” Hilda chuckled. “He was right, but still a lunatic.”

“And I shall take that as a compliment.”

“We should focus on the task at hand,” Dimitri spoke up with a stern tone, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. “Perhaps it would be more efficient for us to split up. Cover more ground.”

“Not a bad idea. Should we pick teams?” Ingrid asked.

“Oh! Oh! Mercie and I go head off that way!”

“And Fe and I can walk down that path. Right babe?”

“Don’t ever call me that again...”

“What? ‘Fe’ or ‘babe’?”

“Neither.”

“Marianne and I got this tunnel!”

“And I’ll head off with Dedue,” said the professor. “I’m assuming you and Dimitri will be traveling together, correct?”

“Yep! Once everyone’s in their teams, we’ll split up. If you guys find anything, come find us. If no one finds anything in the next hour we’ll meet back here.”

“You got it!”

“We’re on it!”

“Good luck everyone!”

“We’ll be heading off as well.” Dedue turned to the king, giving a bow. “Good luck, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri nodded with a smile. “And to you as well, Dedue. Professor.”

“If you two find them, give them hell,” Byleth said.

Claude couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that. “Will do, Teach. And don’t forget yourselves. You’ve got some power in you too.”

The teacher rolled his eyes at his student before turning on his heel to head down the tunnel. Dedue quickly followed behind, and soon Dimitri and Claude were the last ones standing there. The two exchanged knowing glances before walking down their path as well.

* * *

The tunnel was darker than the city and much more cramped, and Marianne was right to say it was uncomfortably moist—as much as Claude _hated_ hearing that word. It just felt so _weird_ —with the sound of droplets falling from the cavern’s ceiling to the rocky dirt beneath their feet. Thankfully there were still fragments of the strange rocks littered around that allowed light to shine through the tunnels, so the two were easily able to walk along the path without worrying of bumping into something or even each other.

Still, the walk felt long and was so eerily quiet. It was uncertain just how long ago they separated from the others to search for Nemesis and the other Elites. It could have been a few minutes, maybe even an hour or two. It was hard to tell being so deep underground. The sun was still shining through the large gap in the ceiling left by Thales and his javelins of light. Hopefully, when they got back, there would still be a few hours of daylight left. However, as they walked along hoping to find something—anything, really—that would show them the way to the Elites’s holding cells, Claude felt that possibility growing slimmer and slimmer.

The duke let out an irritated groan that caught the attention of the king beside him.

“Is something the matter?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s nothing. Just... I _really_ want to get this over with,” Claude answered. “The sooner we’re done here, the sooner you could go back to Fhirdiad and take care of your people, and the sooner Teach can take Rhea’s place as head of the Church.”

“I’m just as eager for reform as you are, Claude, but it seems the Agarthans were trickier than anticipated.” Dimitri glanced around the cavern, his eye searching for any sign of an end to the tunnel. “This will take some time.”

“You think any of the others found something yet?”

“Perhaps. Should we go back?”

“Not yet. Let’s walk a little further. If we find nothing, we should go check to see if anyone else found something.”

Dimitri let out a hum of approval.

A few mere minutes passed as they continued forward, still finding nothing, when the king cleared his throat and turned to Claude once again.

“I was wondering,” he said, “if I’m to take my place as king, and the professor became the new archbishop of the Church, what were you planning to do?”

“Oh? That? Well, I was kind of thinking of heading back to home.” A smile graced his features. “I’ll head over to Almyra, take my old man’s place after defeating my brothers in a show of strength and skill, and come back over here to work out stuff with you and Teach. After that, it’ll be up to the people to make peace with one another.”

“That’s...a fairly good plan. I figured you would want to implement more treaties to further push for unity.”

“Eh. Let’s just say I kind of learned the hard way that you can’t force peace. Especially among people who have been at odds with each other for so long, longer than either of us have been alive. It’ll have to take time.”

“I see...”

“Now, counter question: why such a query, Your Kingliness?” Claude asked, his smirking growing wider as a blush spread over Dimitri’s face.

“Ah... Well, you see...” The king cleared his throat again, feigning a cough into his fist as he attempted to regain his composure. “I...am not too sure if I should become king.”

“Wait, what?”

“To my people, of course. I owe them at least that much. But to all of Fodlan? Would it not be better to leave such a thing to the professor? After all, your description of Fodlan experiencing such peace and prosperity under his reign makes it seem he’s much more fitting for the task.”

_Ah. I get it now. You’re not confident in your own abilities yet, huh Dima?_

“Well,” Claude replied, “that’s uh... Not exactly how it all went down. There was obviously still the Empire trying to rebel, but since they didn’t really have much of an army left it just slowly died down on its own. Doesn’t mean there weren’t still small instances here or there that Teach had to quell, which only led to them hating him more. Not to mention poverty was still rapid since the war. It had only been a couple years since it ended—and Teach had almost no experience or training in government before—so he needed all the help he could get to fix that one.”

“That...sounds like a lot.”

“It was. And even when I stepped into the picture, it was still gonna take a lot to manage the place. That’s likely never going to change, no matter who’s in charge. It’s better that while I’m gone, you and Teach help each other out so neither of you lose your minds. Especially since with you as the leader, the Kingdom might not be so reluctant in working with the other territories.”

“Was that perhaps also why you married the professor?” Dimitri asked. “Your union would likely make the Alliance more willing to cooperate, as well as Almyra. So I suppose that would make sense.”

“True, but I also did love Byleth.” Emphasis on the ‘did’. He, of course, still cared deeply for Byleth, but he was no longer a part of that world. That history. He would be a simple shard of glass lost in the whole of the framed portrait. In a few centuries, he would be easily forgotten in that world. In fact, he had no doubt everyone else had already moved on just as he had.

A momentary silence fell between the two men, but Claude couldn’t help noticing the way Dimitri seemed to be averting his gaze—his blush still heavily evident—and shrinking into himself. Nor could he ignore how they had suddenly paused in their movement, feet planted into the ground as they faced each other. He was now beginning to think maybe he shouldn’t have brought up the professor.

That is, until Dimitri suddenly proposed, “Would we... I mean- Would it be acceptable, to you, if we perhaps... Um, that is to say, I- ... M-My apologies, I fear I’m not very good at this.”

Claude let out a soft chuckle. “No need to be scared, Dima. It’s just the two of us here. If you’ve got something on your mind, just say it.”

“Um... In that case...” Dimitri lifted his gaze so he could look Claude in the eye. His face was now a tomato-like shade of red, and combined with the pouty look on his face at being confronted did it add to the cuteness factor of this situation they found themselves in.

Claude watched as the king tried to steel himself, arms crossed over his chest and face twisted in slight amusement. He had a slight idea as to what Dimitri was attempting to ask. He just wanted the man to come out with it already.

“Khalid,” the king said, “would you... That is, if you would accept, I would like for us to get married. A-After you return from Almyra, of course! I would never think to-”

Dimitri, in a pleasant surprise on Claude’s part, was silenced by the duke with a sudden kiss. Though, before he could return the favor in kind, Claude pulled away from the exchange and offered the king a warm smile.

“Of course, Dimitri. Nothing would make me happier.”

“Claude...”

“Um, I don’t mean to interrupt-”

Both men nearly jumped out of their skin at the intruding voice, their heads turning to see Hilda smirking at both of them. Their faces immediately flushed red as the realization that she had seen that entire thing sunk in.

“If you two are done being all sappy, Dedue and the professor found a bunch of weird looking caskets with people inside.”

“Yeah. Uh... Thanks for coming to get us, Hilda,” the duke replied, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.

The woman rolled her eyes as she turned on her heel. “Whatever. Just let me know when’s the wedding date so we can start making plans! You’re not gonna look anything less than perfect, ya hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Now let’s go.”

Turning back towards the gathering spot, Claude, Dimitri, and Hilda made their way as fast as they could to find the others. Hilda explained that everyone was already making their way down the cavern, and so the two men followed her lead.

Soon this whole mess would be over.

* * *

“Whoa.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Are these guys all...dead?”

“No,” Claude answered. “Well, technically, yes, but they won’t be for long.”

“To think these Slitherers have had these...things here for so long, planning to revive the Ten Elites... No wonder Edelgard saw them as a threat.”

“The most dangerous enemies are those who are hidden from plain sight,” Byleth said. “We should get to destroying these holding chambers before any of them wake up.”

Claude nodded in agreement. “And we better do it fast. The power of even one of them will still take at least several of us to put them back in the grave where they belong.”

“Whoa, seriously? That’s... That’s insane.”

Sylvain looked over to a very particular cell, glaring at the mark of his crest embedded on the door with disgust. “They’re not called the Ten  _ Elites _ for no reason. So let’s get this over with.”

“Yes. Then we can all head home...”

“I wonder what will become of us once this is over.”

“We can figure that out later. Right now, we have bigger fish to fry.”

Felix scoffed, drawing his sword as he approached the door with his crest. “Leave this one to me. I’ve got a few bones to pick with this bastard...”

“Same here,” Sylvain said, walking up to the chamber he was eyeing just now.

One by one, everyone picked a chamber they planned to destroy. The machinery holding the bodies in their frozen cells seemed old, and likely very fragile. All the easier to destroy.

Felix was the first to break apart the cell, cutting off the wires holding the door in place as well as the head of his ancestor clean off their body. However, the smell emitted from the corpse and the inky, black blood that oozed from the neck made the swordsman gag as he stumbled away. The smell quickly filled the room, and everyone found themselves holding their noses and mouths in disgust.

“They must’ve been in there for a long time.”

“That, and their bodies are plagued with black magic used to revive them,” Claude explained. “Let’s hurry and finish off the rest so we can get out of here.”

“Hold on, Claude. How do you know it’s black magic?” Ingrid inquired.

“Isn’t it obvious? Just look at the way their skin is all pale and sunken in,” Lysithea said in defense of the duke. “And it’s not a normal pale either. The dark magic likely contaminated their very DNA, altering their skin tone from white to purple. Not to mention how none of them look even a little decomposed.”

“Lysithea’s right. There’s no way their bodies could still be intact after all these centuries. Even if they were just copies, it wouldn’t make any sense,” Ignatz added.

“Does it matter whether or not it’s fucking magic? Let’s kill these things and go home already! I’m tired of repeating myself.”

“Don’t gotta ask me twice,” answered Sylvain, who without a moment of hesitation copied Felix’s movements from earlier and released the corpse of Gautier before stabbing them clean through the heart.

This time, the body twitched as the sharp end of the Lance of Ruin pierced them and a loud gurgle echoed through the cavern. Everyone attempted to ignore the sound as the others were soon released, and even sooner killed. In just a few short moments, each and every Elite had fallen: Gautier, Fraldarius, Daphnel, Charon, Goneril, Lamine, Dominic, Gloucester, and lastly Blaiddyd and Riegan who were slain by Dimitri and Claude respectfully. The only one remaining was Nemesis.

Byleth stared up at the cell, looking through the foggy glass into the closed, dead eyes of the Fell King. The same man who, mere centuries ago, began the slaughter of the Nabatean race and used the professor’s closest friend as a weapon. The very same weapon he now carried in her stead, her honor, to protect the country the man before him attempted to destroy. Knowing he was staring at that man now made Byleth’s blood boil.

“Teach,” Claude said to his professor, “you don’t have to do this. It’ll be easy to take him down so long as he’s asleep. Any of us could do it for you.”

“No,” Byleth growled. “I... I want to do this. For her.”

“...Alright, Teach. Whatever you say.”

The professor turned to Claude, giving him a nod in thanks, before returning his gaze to Nemesis. Taking the Sword of the Creator, Byleth cut the wires attached to the king’s chamber, releasing his body from its confines. The corpse, of course, fell forward, not yet powered by enough magic to raise the man back from the dead. Without a second thought, Byleht raised his blade high above his head before thrusting it down into the Fell King’s body, cutting clean through the skin and severing his head. The blood oozed from the body, giving off a terrible odor, but Byleth still smiled in relief as he gazed upon his work. It was done.

The war was finally, finally over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll! We did it! This is the end of the main story!
> 
> Of course, seeing as this is my first fully complete fic on AO3, know that I as an author always (or at least usually) truly end a tale with an epilogue. That will be coming out next week, but after that this story is finally concluded.
> 
> Just one more to go ya'll. See you soon!


	55. Epilogue: A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude has returned to Fodlan.

The glow of the sun setting over the horizon behind the tallest tower of Garreg Mach was a sight Claude surely missed. With Nader and a few of his own personal soldiers flying on their wyverns behind him, the newly crowned king took a dive towards the gates of the monastery where the archbishop waited for him. Upon their landing, he threw a sly grin in the man’s direction as servants rushed to aid them with unpacking.

“Hey Teach,” he said. “Long time no see.”

Byleth smiled as he, along with Seteth and Flayn, stepped forward to greet the guests. “It’s been quite a long time Claude. Or would you prefer King Khalid now?”

“Come on, Teach, we’re friends, ain’t we? Ya know all the formal crap just ruins the mood.”

“Yes. But I am still the archbishop, and you’re-”

“The King of Almyra. I know. It’s what I’ve been trying to achieve for the past two and a half years, ain’t it?” Claude replied, jumping off his trusted steed to pull the ex-professor into a hug.

“A king, but he still loves to run that mouth of his, huh?” Nader laughed, also dismounting his wyvern along with the others.

“You can say that again,” Byleth muttered.

Beside them, Seteth cleared his throat to gain their attention. The three heads turned to face the right-hand of the new archbishop.

“We have much to do if we’re to prepare for the celebration tonight per the archbishop’s wish,” he explained. “If you would just follow me, I could show you to your rooms where you’ll be staying for the remainder of your trip.”

“Aw, ain’t that sweet of you, Seteth?” Claude laughed. “Come on, it’s been nearly three years. Aren’t you glad to see your old student back?”

Seteth rolled his eyes. “Hardly,” he replied. “But... I suppose it is nice having such energy back at the monastery.”

“I couldn’t agree more! Welcome home, Claude!” Flayn chirped. “Oh, it’s going to be so exciting having everyone back after all this time! So many of us have already shown up to help with preparations.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, most of the Golden Deer showed up just earlier this afternoon, as have the Black Eagles,” Byleth explained. “The Blue Lions haven’t arrived with the exception of Ashe, Annette, and Mercedes. I think that’s because Dimitri is still stuck traveling. It’s a long ways away from the capital, especially with Winter fast approaching.”

“Right. I guess the Council must’ve had him stick around a lil’ while longer just to be prepared in case the first snow comes along while he’s away...”

“He should arrive by this evening, however. Just in time for the party.”

“Oh, I know he will. I doubt anyone would give up the chance to greet my fabulous self after all this time.”

Byleth sighed. “And there’s the cockiness... Honestly, I don’t know if I should be glad you haven’t changed since the end of the war...”

“Oh, Teach, you know you love me.”

“If you two are done,” Seteth spoke up again, “we should move along and get ready.”

“Oops. My bad, Seteth,” Claude chuckled. “Lead the way.”

Rolling his eyes again, Seteth turned on his heel to guide Claude and his people further into the monastery towards their temporary living quarters.

* * *

Not too long after Claude and Nader were settled in did the party come into full swing. The decorations and candles lit up the reception hall, bringing life and excitement to the scene. Chatter, laughter, and hollering echoed off the walls as everyone gathered around friends and family alike to celebrate. All in all, it was a sight to behold, and one Claude happily basked in the glow of.

This was what he was fighting for. Seeing all of his friends smile and enjoy themselves like this... It made the pain of leaving his loved ones behind in the other dimension, his dimension, a little easier. He knew he would still worry and fret over them—with Sylvain still up in the mountains, isolating himself, the Kingdom on the brink of collapse with the harsher winters, the possibility of war with Almyra, and, of course, Byleth, it was hard  _ not _ to think about the consequences of his absence of that world—but there was almost nothing he could do to change this outcome. At least, nothing he knew of. Only the Agarthans had known, or at least had some explanation of how it happened, and though Lysithea and Linhardt were currently studying what they could find in the ruins of the city he knew it was all pointless. All he could do was enjoy the fruits of his labor.

And that was exactly what Claude did. The moment it was clear he didn’t have to uphold the image of a noble, Claude rushed to the dancefloor to find his friends.

The first ones he managed to encounter were Hilda and Marianne with the former absolutely gushing over how radiant Leonie looked in the maternity gown she designed. To say Claude was surprised as he listened to Hilda’s retelling of the wedding between their strong headed, down-to-roll-in-the-mud-for-fun redhead and totally-a-snob-but-also-strangely-chill lavender-haired friends was a bit of an understatement. He heard that opposites tend to attract, but not to that extent. What didn’t surprise him, however, were the matching engagement rings on the women’s fingers that he managed to catch a glimpse of just before they walked away to dance some more. Claude couldn’t help as he watched them run off with a smile, feeling completely delighted for the couple.

Then of course there Felix and Sylvain, who were both having a bit of a spat next to Ingrid who honestly looked like she wished she were somewhere else. Seeing the trio back at it with their old antics felt incredibly nostalgic. Though he didn’t quite know them so well, he was still glad to see Sylvain happy with his two friends. He was much different from the Sylvain he remembered, and for that Claude knew reliving the war had been worth it. Especially as he noticed the lance-wielder get a little... _ handsy _ with the swordsman beside him. At least a little more than usual, and so openly too. But, of course, Felix ended up scolding him with a punch to the shoulder, followed by quiet and embarrassed grumbling from the Fraldarius heir as he stormed off. Sylvain was left to laugh as Ingrid let out an exhausted sigh. The poor woman looked like she needed a break... 

Moving on, there were others that Claude had noticed as he roamed the hall, watching everyone celebrate and dance. He briefly passed by Raphael, his sister Maya, and Ignatz who were happily conversing away about their new family trading business with Claude smiling at the sight of his two friends embracing each other so lovingly. A little later, he bumped into Ferdinand and Bernadetta—both looking much better from the last time he had seen them—then later Linhardt and Caspar who happily announced their decision to adopt thanks to Byleth’s same-sex laws being approved by the newly formed council in ex-Empire territory. There was also Dorothea and Petra who were having too much fun dancing and flirting in the latter’s native tongue to even notice his presence. Lastly, he had met up with the newly appointed archbishop, his father, and the sly Abyssian named Yuri. At some point during the conversation, Yuri made a flirtatious remark towards Byleth, who attempted to ignore him despite the growing blush on his face. Of course, Claude and Jeralt noticed this, and it was the latter’s glare towards the Abyssian that made Claude want to retreat. The last thing he wanted was getting in the middle of  _ that _ mess.

After hours upon hours of catching up with as many of his friends as he could, Claude felt himself grow tired. He decided to step out into the courtyard just in front of the old classrooms for a breath of fresh air.

_ It was getting pretty stuffy in there...  _ he thought to himself.  _ The chill out here might do me some good. _

But, just as his eyes scan over the tattered flag of the Black Eagles classroom, he thinks,  _ Yeah. Definitely gonna have to retract that statement... _

It had been nearly three years since Claude had last stepped foot in Fodlan, and three years since the end of the war. Since the annihilation of the Agarthans, the fall of the Empire, and, most of all, Edelgard’s death.

“I really wish I could’ve done more,” he muttered. “More to stop her. To get her to maybe change sides...”

“There’s nothing more you could have done. She chose her path, and nothing anyone could say would steer her from it...”

Recognizing that voice, Claude turned in surprise to see Dimitri standing behind him, his singular blue eye gazing just as longingly as he did at the empty room.

He’s right, and Claude knows that he’s right. There was no use in dwelling on what could have been done differently. This was the best possible outcome, and there was no way Claude would give it up just for the slim chance that he could somehow convince Edelgard to join their side. Not after everything they had gone through...

“I guess you’re right,” he replied. “It’s good to see ya, Dimitri.”

“It’s nice to see you as well, Claude. Assuming you still go by that name.”

Claude shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter much to me at this point. Though it seems everyone’s more keen on calling me ‘Claude’ rather than ‘Khalid’. Not that I mind.”

“I wouldn’t imagine that you would. After all, regardless of the name, you’re still yourself.”

“Yeah. But you don’t quite look yourself in that fancy getup, huh?” the king teased, gesturing to Dimitri’s regalia. The other man was adorned in a large suit of white and gold armor and a dark blue cloak wrapped around his shoulders to match it. And good gods, look at the size of those shoulder pauldrons!

As Claude had his laugh, Dimitri couldn’t help but sigh in total embarrassment. “Yes. I completely agree with you on that. I wanted something...simpler for this occasion, but Rodrigue insisted I ‘dress my very best’ for meeting the King of Almyra.”

“He does realize that  _ I’m _ the king, right?”

“Honestly I think that only made him push it onto me  _ more _ .”

Now that  _ definitely _ got a laugh out of Claude. The king was going hysterical at Dimitri’s dilemma, the chill air doing little to cool his warm face from the rush of blood in his veins. Once he was finally calm, however, the two men stood side-by-side under the stars, gazing up into the night sky.

“So, how are things fairing in the Kingdom?” Claude asked.

“We’re slowly recovering, and I’ve managed to convince Dedue to take charge of our projects in Duscur. We hope to repair at least enough of the country for people to move back and help rebuild the civilization there,” he explained. “For now, however, we’ve allowed whoever we could find to rest and take shelter in the capital.”

“So that’s why I haven’t seen the big guy all night. I would’ve figured he’d be right there hanging out with Ashe. Those two always did make a cute item.”

Dimitri nodded in agreement. “Ashe has voiced his desire to join Dedue in his efforts, but I suppose Dedue talked him out of it. I’m not too sure why.”

“We could always ask them later.”

“Hm... True, I suppose.”

“The Council hasn’t been giving you a hard time about the peace treaties and trade deals, have they?”

Another sigh escaped the king’s lips. “I’m afraid so.”

“Eh. I kind of expected that...” Claude looked over at Dimitri to give his signature wink. “Just leave it all to me, buddy. All you gotta do is get them to agree to meet with me and I’ll handle the rest.”

“I fear I must disagree with you on that,” Dimitri replied. “They’ll likely expect me to oppose your demands if they don’t benefit Fodlan as a whole.”

“And by that they just mean Faerghus, right?”

“I’m afraid so...”

This time, it was Claude who sighed. “Damn old geezers... This was much easier with Ingrid and Ashe in charge. Ah, well, what can ya do? Besides, I’m sure there’s other ways to get them to agree to the treaties.”

Dimitri, curious at the king’s comment, looked at Claude with a skeptical glance. “And what ways would that be? Assuming you have an idea, which, knowing you, you’ve likely already concocted fifteen.”

“And you would be right. But honestly I think you’ll love the first one.”

“Oh, please, do go on,” Dimitri answered, the slightest hint of sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

Claude gave the other king a smirk. “Remember how you said you wanted to get married back in the caverns?”

At the first sign of a blush gracing His Majesty’s cheeks, Claude knew he had won. Dimitri was obviously taken by surprise at such a bold statement, and his flustered features were a sure sign of that.

“I-I um... Well, I-I, uh... I do, um, suppose that uh... Th-That could work, in theory at least, um... B-But I would never expect you to, uh... That is, to say, I-I-I um...”

“Are you saying the offer is still on the table?” Claude asked, wanting to see just how far he could push Dimitri before the man became a bashful, sputtering mess.

“Of course!” the king replied, though a little too eagerly. “Um... That, uh, is um... What I meant to say is uh...”

At this, Claude is once again howling with laughter. Feeling exhilarated with adrenaline from just how  _ absolutely hilarious _ this whole thing was, Claude’s body trembled and heaved as he attempted to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Dimitri—in his embarrassment—pouted almost like a child as he turned his gaze away from the king beside him. Noticing this, Claude put his hand on Dimitri’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.

“Oh, Dima,” the man chuckled, “ya know I’m just messin’ with ya. I mean, it’s not exactly the most romantic proposal I’ve ever gotten, but I know that was just you sharing how you felt. And it’s not like I rejected you.”

“...Yes. In fact, it was...quite the opposite,” Dimitri admitted, the blush increasing tenfold as it spread to the tips of his ears. Though Claude knew that if he commented on it, it would only further fluster the other king.

“So...”

“So...?”

“I’m being serious here now... Should we? Ya know, get married, I mean?”

“I...wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. But there would be a lot more than just asking for your hand. The process will take weeks if not months.”

“Right. I forgot Faerghus has a whole courting system...” Claude let out a playful huff. “We could just skip all that ya know.”

Dimitri, however, shook his head. “No. If we’re to do this, I want to do it right. You deserve nothing but the best. I... I love you, Khalid, and I’ll do anything to prove it.”

Not quite expecting such words from the once too-shy-to-even-ask-for-a-second-glass-of-wine man, now it was Claude’s turn to suddenly grow bashful. His face flushed red, and not just from the incoming cold that accompanied the autumn and winter seasons, but he couldn’t the smile that spread across his lips as he stared lovingly into the gaze of his lover.

“I love you too, Dima,” he told the man. “Come here.”

Following Claude’s lead, the two of them leaned closer into one another’s spaces before their lips were pressed together in a soft, warm, and tender kiss. With the stars shining above them, Claude and Dimitri enjoyed one another’s company in a more peaceful Fodlan. And, though it was a long journey ahead, they would continue to live happily ever after by each other’s side.

**_THE END_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end.
> 
> It's been such a journey with you guys, and, honestly, I'm so grateful for it. And the timing couldn't have been better because by the time I've uploaded this, it's actually been exactly one year since I first started playing Three Houses. I know, I was pretty late to the party, but still. I'm glad I got to play the game and experience the fandom, and to see it's still so much alive and thriving is honestly amazing. I personally am not as interested as I was when I first started it, but the fandom and the ships and the content will have still have a special place in my heart.
> 
> I might return to doing more FE3H fanfics, at least ones that haven't been commissioned, but I'm still not sure. I might just finish the ones people asked me to do and then that would be it. We'll just have to see and find out really.
> 
> But anyway, thank you all so much for all the reads, the kudos, and especially the comments. Those were honestly the highlight of my days sometimes just seeing how much people love my content. And a special thanks to those who have been around since the first chapter got uploaded. I honestly am really sorry that it took this long for the fic to finish but I'm glad ya'll still enjoyed it nonetheless.
> 
> If you guys want, I have other fics I still fully plan on finishing if not revising so I CAN finish them. I also have an [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/ace_trash_boi/) where I post fanart and OC art if you're interested. I also post it on my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/gay-fan-boi) too.
> 
> And if you like self-insert/OC fics I have a [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/simp_master_420) where I post those (though there's only really one up right now).
> 
> And if you just want to see the random stuff I do everyday I also have a [new twitter account](https://twitter.com/big_trash_boi) where I also occasionally will post art. I haven't done much on it but that's because I rarely use twitter nowadays for...hopefully obvious reasons.
> 
> With all that said and done, I bid you all adeu, and I hope to see you guys again one day.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is very much going to be Claude driven as you can see. I've seen a lot of fics with Byleth being the one sent back, so I thought of making something new.
> 
> Let's see where this goes.


End file.
